The Journey To Healing
by Calla3131
Summary: Steve McGarrett was married once, many years ago. He thought that maybe living and working in his home state of Hawaii would give him the distance that he needed to try to put the heartbreak far behind him once and for all. But when his ex-wife moves to the island with her family, he realizes that there is a very real possibility that moving on is never going to happen.
1. Dr Addison

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and welcome to my newest Hawaii Five-O story! Thank you so much for choosing to read this, and an extra big thank you to the readers of my** _ **Boundless as the Sea**_ **story for voting on this idea and coming to read it.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think,** _ **"no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine"**_ **or** _ **"but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…"**_ **just know that it** _ **does**_ **make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **I am planning to update at least once a week (hopefully more, if I'm feeling especially motivated). Life** _ **does**_ **get in the way sometimes, but if it's been a week and you see that I still haven't updated, feel free to give me a shove until I get it done.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

 **Happy Reading!**

… **..**

 **Chapter One: Dr. Addison**

 _Steve_

"Does this bother you?" Danny asked me once we were seated inside the Camaro.

I didn't look at him as I started it up. "Why would it bother me?"

"Because the suspect is a Navy SEAL. And, just in case you've taken one too many hits to the head lately, _you_ used to be a Navy SEAL."

The Camaro roared quietly as I turned out onto the street. "I remember."

"Oh, good." Danny looked at me intently, and I was reminded of how good a detective he was. "You gonna be okay to work this?"

Annoyance made me turn a bit too sharply. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He was unfazed. We'd been partners for long enough that he knew that he could handle my temper. "When you first came to Hawaii, you were way too intense with cases that involved fathers and sons. And I get it; I'm a little intense when fathers and daughters are involved. I'm just making sure that you can step back and look at this objectively."

"I can. I don't even personally know this SEAL. That's why we're headed to meet with his psychiatrist. I asked Chin and Kono to call ahead and let them know that we were coming."

"Do you think he did it?" The question from Danny was so quiet that I could hardly hear it. Maybe he didn't want it to be true, either.

I sighed and rubbed my hand down my face, fighting back a wave of exhaustion. I also made a mental note to shave at my earliest convenience. "I don't know, Danny. I'd like to say no, but… war can do things to people. On the video, it looked like he just lost it on that kid over the toy gun. But to him… it probably seemed very real. Maybe the psychiatrist can shed some light on the situation. If he has a PTSD diagnosis, it would start to make a little more sense."

"It's not an excuse for trying to beat a kid."

"No, and I didn't mean for it to sound that way. He sounds like he needs help. I just hope we can find him and get him that help before he _murders_ someone."

"That's the goal," Danny sighed. "Do you know the military psychiatrist?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't. I actually haven't been on base since my last reserve training, and I've never seen the psychiatrist here."

"Maybe you should," he shrugged. "You know, just schedule an appointment while we're there. Maybe they can help you with your control issues."

"I don't have control issues!"

"Shh, we're here," he said and pointed at the guard shack. "Give the nice man your credentials."

After telling him to shut up, I parked the car in front of the window so that the uniformed men could quickly search it. As they did, Danny and I showed our credentials to the man inside, who said that Chin and Kono had already called him and he'd been expecting us.

We were waved through, and I parked in front of the building that he had indicated. Danny and I had just closed the car doors when we were approached by a man in the blue and gray Navy uniform. "Lieutenant Commander McGarrett?" he asked me.

"That's me," I nodded and held out a hand for him to shake.

He did so, and then shook Danny's hand as well. "I'm Sergeant Lewis. I was instructed to take you to see Dr. Addison."

A wave of emotions and memories rushed over me, and I experienced the strange sensation of drifting away. Though I stood beneath a warm Hawaiian sun, it felt like I'd just stepped out of an ice bath. My heart was racing, pumping adrenaline that I didn't know what to do with. That one name brought with it feelings of love, pain, sadness… and also a sense of loss.

"Steve?"

I was brought out of my silent reverie when Danny waved his hand in front of my face. When I focused again, I could see him looking at me with a hint of concern. "You all right, buddy?"

"Yeah." I shook it off and looked at the sergeant, who clearly had his poker face on. He likely thought that I was a quack. "What did you say the doctor's name was?"

"Dr. Addison," he responded slowly, and he clearly thought that I'd have the same reaction upon hearing it again. When I didn't, he continued. "She's new here, actually. Dr. Parker retired, and she took his place. She's been here for a month, but she officially took his place when he retired two weeks ago. She's the one that took over Lieutenant Brown's case."

"Great," Danny said when I didn't say anything. "Could you take us to her, please?"

"Of course." The sergeant turned on his heel and began to walk. "If you'll follow me, please."

As we fell into step behind him, Danny whispered, "Are you sure that you're okay?"

 _I certainly hope so_. "Yes, I'm fine." Louder, I asked, "Do you know where Dr. Addison came from?"

"She was working in Virginia, I believe. On the base in Little Creek and the hospital in Norfolk. She's supposed to be really great at what she does."

"Little Creek…" Danny mused and then looked at me. "That's where you used to live when you were with the SEALs, right?"

I turned slightly to avoid hitting a small group of men. "Yeah. I lived in Virginia Beach."

"You might _know_ her, then," he said, as if I hadn't already considered that possibility. "Do you think that you know her?"

I was saved from having to give an immediate answer when the sergeant stopped in front of a door and turned to face us. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the door opened and a young woman stepped out. She was in her late teens or early twenties, and she looked like she'd been through hell. Greasy, dirty blonde hair was pulled up in a haphazard bun and her dark eyes were bloodshot, which really brought out the dark circles under her eyes. Her outfit consisted of sweatpants – despite the heat outside – and an oversized hoodie. In short, she looked like a mess.

When she saw us, she froze, eyes darting between the three of us. It reminded me of a startled animal.

Danny must have been thinking the same thing, because he adopted his most charming smile and gentled his tone. "Hi."

"Rose?"

Again, that wave of emotions and memories began to drown me, and even more so when the owner of the voice stepped into the open doorway.

She didn't look like she'd aged a day, even though it had been almost ten years. Her honey blonde hair hung in waves to just past her shoulders. Blue eyes were the star of her face, accented by minimal makeup. Though she'd apparently been living in Hawaii for a month, her complexion was still as pale and smooth as ever. The small heels that she wore added an extra inch or two onto her 5'8 height. The red dress that she wore accented the curves and muscles of her lithe figure. And she was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Not in a model kind of way, but in that alluring way – she was the kind of woman that men just couldn't look away from, for some reason.

I snapped out of my little trance when the young woman turned back and said, "Yes?"

Dr. Addison gave her a kind smile, barely sparing the three of us a glance. "If nothing changes in the next few days, let me know and I'll squeeze you in, okay?"

"Okay." Rose thanked her and then turned and practically sprinted away.

Danny, unable to go more than a couple of minutes without using sarcasm, said, "Well, she seems like the life of the party."

The look that Dr. Addison gave him shut him up right away.

"Dr. Addison," Sergeant Lewis stepped forward and gestured towards us. "This is Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett and Detective Danny Williams of the Five-O government task force. They're here to ask about one of your patients."

When she saw me, her eyes widened in surprise and recognition. Thankfully, she was a master at concealing her emotions, so she covered it quickly and shook both of our hands. "Gentlemen. Come on in. Thank you, Sergeant."

He nodded and headed off down the hall as we stepped into Dr. Addison's office.

It didn't look like any psychiatrist's office that I'd ever seen in person or in the movies. For starters, there was no desk, which made it seem more like someone's living room than someone's office. The floors were hardwood, a light shade of chestnut. On one side of the room, arranged over a large gray and white area rug, were a long couch, two loveseats, and a recliner, all in the same shade of light gray. In the middle there was a wooden coffee table with a couple of magazines and a small potted plant on it. There were also two identical end tables with a few things on each of them.

On the other side of the room, there was a large wooden box that seemed to hold toys… I could see a bag of blocks sticking out of the top. There was also a small, kid-sized white table against the wall. Beside it was a wooden filing cabinet.

After she had shut the door, Dr. Addison breezed past us and took a seat on one of the loveseats beside the window. "What can I do for you?"

I moved to go and sit down, but Danny stopped me and looked between the two of us with eyes that missed nothing. "Hold on, hold on a minute. Do you two know each other?"

Frozen to the spot, I just looked at the psychiatrist, trying to communicate that it was really up to her, because I didn't know how to handle it. My brain was spinning so fast that it felt like I couldn't stop and think.

"We do," she said when it became clear that I wasn't going to speak. Without backing down from Danny's inquiring gaze, she said, "My name used to be Dr. Bailey McGarrett."

The look on Danny's face would have been comical if he wasn't learning things about my past that I'd been trying extremely hard to keep buried. "You…" He pointed to me and then turned back and pointed at her. "You… you two were _married_?"

"We were," I said, finally regaining my voice. "For two and a half years. But that was…"

"Ten years ago," she cut in without looking at me. "Ancient history. Now, what was it you needed to know?"

"I have like a million questions…" Danny said, and I could practically see the gears in his brain whirring away.

"We're here about a _case_ , Danny," I warned him, and steered him over to the couch so that we could sit across from her. The room felt like it was a thousand degrees, but I promised myself that I would keep my cool.

"Right, right," he said as he sat. "And _then_ I can ask about the marriage?"

"No," Bailey and I said at the same time.

Danny grinned. "Spooky."

Maybe if I just ignored him, he'd shut up about it. "Alexander Brown. He's a member of SDVT here. They said that you were in charge of his case."

She nodded. "I am." That was it. No volunteered information. HIPPA stickler through and through.

Danny took over. "Earlier this morning, he was on the beach when a kid ran by playing with a toy gun. It made some kind of noise that set him off and he started to attack this little boy. When the boy's father tried to pull him off, Alexander attacked him, too. Enough people were finally able to pull him off, but he fought his way free and made a run for it."

She closed her eyes and gave a sad sigh before opening them again. "What do you need from me?"

"His history," I cut back in. "Medical history, specifically. Have you been treating him for PTSD?"

"I have."

"Care to expand on that?" Danny pressed. "Is he on any medication?"

"He takes Ativan for his anxiety. Three milligrams before bed to help him sleep, and two more milligrams in the morning to get him through the day."

"Ativan…" Danny said slowly. "I think I've heard of that. Isn't it addictive?"

"It _can_ be," she answered him. "The risk of dependence increases the longer that the medication is in use. That's why I'm working with him using cognitive processing therapy and stress inoculation training. Hopefully, I'll be able to get him off of anti-anxiety meds soon."

"Why's he on anti-anxiety meds for PTSD?"

I found myself answering. "Because there isn't a medicine for PTSD."

Bailey nodded at me. "That's right. Medications given to a PTSD patient are given to manage the _symptoms_ , not the disorder. There's no _cure_ for PTSD. It's something that we teach people how to manage."

"So, he isn't active right now, right?" Danny confirmed.

She shook her head. "I would never clear him for active duty with the way that he is right now. He needs multiple doses of Ativan to get him through the day. I'm not going to stick a gun in his hand and send him off to fight terrorists."

"When did you see him last?" I asked.

She turned her gaze to me, and I felt like I was melting under it. "Two days ago. It…" She paused and seemed to be trying to find the right words. Finally, she settled on, "It didn't go well. He asked me what his chances were of getting cleared for duty again. I said that with his PTSD and the way that he was managing, it was unlikely that he would be able to resume his duties as a SEAL. He was understandably upset by that. I don't have to tell you how hard a man has to work to _become_ a SEAL. And then to have to give that up unwillingly… It's not easy."

Danny nodded in understanding. "So, he was already upset about that. _Stressed_ , one might say. And I'm betting that one of those coping techniques that you use is to go for a walk."

She shrugged one shoulder. "More or less. It's likely that he was _running_ on the beach. Getting outside and getting some exercise are both things that I recommend for my PTSD patients."

"He's already stressed, so he goes for a run," Danny said, putting the pieces into place. "His adrenaline is going. Then, the kid pops out of nowhere with a toy gun that probably makes super realistic noises."

"His training took over and he didn't have the control over his mind to recognize that it wasn't a threat," I finished.

"That would make sense," Bailey agreed. "And if it set him off in just the right way… all that I can say is that you need to find him _soon_. I'd hate to see this get any worse."

"So would we," I said as I stood, Danny following my lead. "Do you have any idea where he might go?"

She stood as well and shook her head. "He's been on the island for a few years, so no doubt he has some safe spots. He's mentioned hunting somewhere near…" she thought hard for a moment. "Manoa something? Sorry, I'm not very familiar with the island yet."

"It helps," Danny assured her. "We'll look into it."

"Okay," she said. "If you have any other questions, feel free to call. My cards are on the table just outside the door."

"Thank you," I told her, and I felt like a million emotions passed between us.

Somehow, I tore myself away and exited, grabbing one of her cards on my way out. Danny did the same, and he practically had to jog to keep up with me as I led the way back out to the car.

Once inside, he let me have it. " _You had a wife and you never thought to tell me that?!"_

I started up the car and quickly pulled away. "It was ten years ago."

" _We're partners!_ " He almost seemed agitated. "How could you not tell me this? Does anyone else know?"

"Chin and Kono don't, if that's what you mean."

"Does Joe know?"

I nodded. "Yes, of course Joe knows."

"What about Catherine?"

"Yes."

"Wow." He sighed and leaned back against his seat. "I can't believe this. So, what happened? Why'd you get divorced?"

I pushed the memories away as they assailed me. "I don't want to talk about it, Danny."

He paused a moment and then let that go. "Okay… so, how'd you meet her?"

"I don't want to talk about _that_ , either."

But that didn't stop me from remembering.


	2. The First Meeting

… **..**

 **Hi, everyone! I'm so glad that you've decided to come back for another chapter of my story. Thank you so much to those of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and private messaged. Your support means the world to me.**

 **Before we begin, a quick reminder: I am planning to update at least once a week (hopefully more, if I'm feeling especially motivated). Life does get in the way sometimes, but if it's been a week and you see that I still haven't updated, feel free to give me a shove until I get it done.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

 **Happy Reading!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Two: The First Meeting**

 **Twelve Years Ago**

 _Steve_

The rhythm of the helo's blades whirring through the air was soothing to me, as crazy as that sounded. It took me back to my very first op with the SEALs, when I'd been so nervous that the lieutenant had noticed and told me that it helped to find something to focus on while you calmed your mind. He'd told me that he always listened to the helicopter's blades, and so I'd tried it and found that it helped immensely. To this day, it kept me grounded.

I saw Carson looking my way and nodded at him when he raised his eyebrows at me. Yes, I was fine. I just needed to stay focused. I'd been feeling a little restless lately, and there was really no explanation for it. Everything was going fine. I'd just been promoted to SEAL Team Six, which was something that I'd been working for since the Naval Academy. I had great friends that were more like brothers to me. I'd finally gotten approved for that nicer apartment that I wanted. So, why didn't I feel _happy_? It was like I was stuck in a rut.

As the pilot told us that it would be three minutes to the drop point, I pushed those thoughts away and stood up with the rest of my team. I needed to be focused on the op, not on any issues with my personal life. Here and now, there was an American that needed me to be at the top of my game.

Dr. Bailey Young.

A third-year resident psychiatrist, she had volunteered for a new program that was putting more mental health professionals as close to the action as possible. Their goal was to have them there as quickly as possible after traumatic events to hopefully head off PTSD. Unfortunately, that also put those mental health professionals at risk, as Dr. Young now knew all too well.

One hundred and twelve days prior, she had been kidnapped on her way to receive a shipment of medical supplies that were at a nearby airstrip. The car that she was in had been ambushed, and she and two other Americans (a nurse and a guard) had been taken by Nepalese extremists that detested America's presence in their country. The guard had been disposed of immediately, and the nurse and Dr. Young had been held together, moved constantly.

American authorities had been informed of the kidnapping, of course, but they hadn't considered it worth the risk to send a special ops team in without the right amount of detail. The extremists had been in communication with government hostage negotiators, but they had obviously not been able to reach a peaceful agreement. Especially not after the nurse, Emily Granger, had died of exposure to the elements. To make matters worse, the latest proof of life video that they'd sent had featured a terribly ill Dr. Young, who had said that she was fairly certain that she had pneumonia and wouldn't make it much longer.

That had forced the higher ups into action.

"Check!" Ronnie called, and Carson and I quickly checked each other's parachutes to make sure that they were sound.

"Let's roll, brother," Carson said when the pilot gave us the all-clear to go.

"See you on the ground," I responded and threw myself out into the sky.

There was something incredibly freeing about falling through the air, knowing that you would soon land safely on the ground. It was a rare moment in time where you were flying, the wind whipping all around you. The peace that I felt was soothing.

What felt like seconds later, I saw the two parachutes below me open, so I reached over and pulled my own. As the chute expanded, I felt the familiar jerk, and then positioned my body just so. After landing on the ground, I expertly unclipped the parachute and then moved into a crouching position around the landing zone, gun at the ready.

The last two members of our team landed and took up their own positions, and then LT was speaking to us through our comms. "Alright, guys. Stay sharp. Command, do we have visual confirmation?"

"Affirmative, Alpha One. We have visual confirmation of the package five miles due north of your current location. Be advised, there are five armed tangos, two patrolling."

"Copy," LT said and then spoke to us. "Let's move, boys."

We moved swiftly and silently through the darkness like the well-oiled machine that we were. Not every SEAL aspired to join team six, but it was certainly the most challenging of the teams. I liked that challenge. We received extra training that made us the perfect team for this op, so close to Mount Everest during the coldest season of the year. The chill was uncomfortable, but we kept moving at our slow and steady pace.

Once we were close enough, LT held up his hand and we halted, forming a circle. He gave orders for Rivers, our sniper, to take up a position several hundred yards away with Carson acting as his spotter. The rest of us were going to go in hot.

The last few minutes before engagement were such a trying time for me. The adrenaline was already coursing through my body at the thought of what was to come, but I had to force myself to remain calm. To steady my racing thoughts, I double checked my gear, even though it had already been checked a dozen times on the way.

Carson's voice was in my ear. "In position. Awaiting orders."

"Talk to me," LT ordered softly, raising his binoculars to his eyes. "I see two men patrolling the perimeter of their makeshift camp. The other four must be in the two tents. Do you have a visual on the package?"

"Negative," Carson replied. "The flaps of the tents are shut tight to protect them from the cold."

"Command, get me a heat signature reading."

"Copy. Stand by."

"Take your time," Ramirez muttered from beside me, his breath a white puff in the air. "It's not like we're freezing our asses off out here."

"Pull your balaclava back up and keep your mouth shut," LT responded, but there was a smile in his voice as he said it.

"Copy," Ramirez said and pulled the mask up over his mouth and nose.

"We have two heat signatures in each tent. By our best estimate, the package is in the northernmost tent, back against the rock wall. The other heat signature in that tent seems to be guarding the entrance."

"Copy." LT looked to Ramirez and me. "Let's move in low."

On our bellies, we began to crawl forward through the snow and ice. My teeth began to chatter, but I pressed on.

Once in position, LT spoke to Carson and Rivers. "This needs to be quick and quiet. Rivers, you take out the one to the east. Steve will get the one to the west."

I got my gun into position and locked in on my target. "Got him."

"Got him," Rivers echoed a half second later.

"On my command," LT said softly. "Then we move. Three… two… one."

I pulled the trigger, confirmed my shot, and then vaulted to my feet to follow Ramirez and LT as they began to move towards the camp, guns at the ready. But the snow seemed to have muffled their landing, because we entered into a quiet camp.

LT signaled for Carson and Rivers to join us, and Ramirez and I took the opportunity to do our watching as close to the warm fire as we could. The Himalayas were _not_ on my list of vacation spots, if only for the cold that seemed to be working its way into my very bones.

Once our team was complete, LT signaled where he wanted us to go – Carson and I to the tent with the package, LT and Rivers to the one with the guards, and Ramirez as lookout and backup. Carson and I moved to take up our position just outside the tent, and then we signaled that we were ready.

When LT gave the signal to go in, Carson burst into the tent and took the startled guard out with one shot. I followed him in and went for the figure against the wall of the tent, wrapped in several blankets. One look confirmed that it was Dr. Young, so I knelt beside her and said, "Package spotted. Confirmation to follow."

Her cheeks were flushed from the fever, and it took a few shakes for her to open her eyes, which were glassy and full of confusion.

"Dr. Young," I said, "I'm with the Navy SEALs. We're here to take you home, but first I need to confirm your identity. Do you understand?"

She nodded weakly.

"What is your paternal grandmother's name?"

Her voice was raspy and weak, but she gave me the correct answer.

"And what color was the house you grew up in?"

"Dark red brick," she coughed.

"Package confirmed," I said and then leaned in to lift Dr. Young up into my arms. "We're taking you home, doc."

"Uh oh," Ramirez said. "We've got trouble. I'm hearing snow vehicles coming our way."

"Command?" LT demanded, clearly beyond pissed that we hadn't been warned. "What do we got?"

"Alpha One, be advised that there are four enemy vehicles approaching. WMDs have been spotted."

Carson began to curse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Let's go!" I called and quickly ducked out of the tent, Carson on my heels.

"Evac one minute out!" LT called as we joined them by the fire. "How's the package?"

I looked down at the woman in my arms, surprised to find that she was sleeping, carried under by the illness and the cold. "Needs medical attention."

"We should be-"

His sentence was cut short by a fiery explosion in the sky.

The echo of it couldn't drown out the cursing from Ramirez and Carson.

LT was extraordinarily calm. "There goes our ride. Let's move; those vehicles aren't going to stop for long."

My adrenaline kicked up again.

This op had just gotten a hell of a lot more complicated.

"Move! Move!" he shouted and led the way towards the mountain. "We'll take cover and wait it out! McGarrett, get up front with the package! Rivers, grab those guns! Carson, that bag looks like food! Go, go!"

I moved as quickly as my legs would carry me, keeping a sharp eye out for anything that might pop up. It had started to snow, and it was unlike anything that I was used to. The wind was fierce, carrying the snow directly into my eyes. Instinctively, I cradled Dr. Young even closer to me and hoped that it would be enough to keep her warm for a while.

"Behind you!" Carson called. "Can you see anything in this?! We need to find a cave!"

The vehicles that were approaching were likely reinforcements for the camp that we'd just raided. Once they discovered that we had killed their men, they would be coming after us. They were in vehicles, and we were on foot… quite the unfair advantage.

"Left side, left side!" Rivers called, and Carson and I automatically began to drift that way. "Twenty degrees!"

The opening of what looked to be a cave was exactly where Rivers had said that it would be.

When the loud rumbling reached my ears, I felt a panic. "Is that what I think it is?"

"AVALANCHE!" LT called. "Get to shelter, NOW!"

I couldn't see the wall of snow yet, but I could hear it growing closer and closer. I forced myself not to look, afraid that if I did, I would freeze up. I'd never seen one in person before, but I knew that they could be horrific. I didn't relish the thought of being caught up in one. And being buried under a mountain of snow in a foreign country was _not_ how I wanted to die.

Rivers reached the cave first and turned on his flashlight, beckoning the rest of us closer. I saw LT and Ramirez duck in next.

The rumbling was so loud that I was certain we weren't going to make it.

"Come on, come on!" Carson said, grabbing my arm as he hauled us both forward.

So close…

We made it just in the nick of time, and headed towards the very back of the cave with the others. Fortunately, the cave was deep enough to get us away from any snow that might fall in, and there were no wild animals that we had to waste any bullets on. The cave was about thirty-six feet long and about twelve feet wide. It was cold, but not nearly as cold as it had been outside, where the avalanche was wreaking havoc.

"Check on her," LT told me and Carson, who was the medic of our group. "Ramirez, see if you can get a fire going. Rivers, take inventory of the supplies. I'm going to try to reach someone."

Carson laid out a blanket that he'd picked up somewhere and I gingerly set the doctor down on it. We both set to unwrapping her from the two blankets that she was already wrapped in and as we went, we ran into injury after injury.

Once she was fully unwrapped, Carson cursed. "What did they _do_ to her?"

She was covered in bruises, cuts, and burns. Obviously, she hadn't been very forthcoming with the information that they wanted, and that hadn't made them too happy.

Shaking his head to recover, Carson unzipped his pack. As the medic, it was his responsibility to carry all of the medical supplies that we might need. Since Dr. Young had said in her video that she was pretty certain that she had pneumonia, the Navy had sent along some IV antibiotics to give her.

He slipped the needle into her arm, taped it in place, and then expanded a compact IV pole to hang the bag on. Then, he set to work checking her vitals and cleaning and bandaging the worst of her cuts and burns. He wouldn't be able to take care of every single one, as some were already mostly healed and he needed to save supplies in case one of us got injured.

About half an hour later, he said, "That's the best that I can do for now. She'll likely sleep through the night."

"How soon will the antibiotics work?" I asked.

"I'll have to give her all of the bags that they gave me," he said, "but I'm hoping for some improvement by tomorrow. She's severely dehydrated and malnourished, but the fluids should help with that. I'd like to get her some treatment as soon as possible."

I rolled up one of the blankets that she'd been wrapped in and put it under her head as Carson covered her with the other one. It wasn't the Ritz, but I doubted that she'd even notice, ill as she was.

We joined the others, and LT asked us how she was. Carson gave him a rundown of her injuries as she coughed in her sleep in the background.

"Sounds like she's hacking up a lung," Ramirez winced.

"They gave me some Codeine," Carson said, "but she's not conscious enough to take it right now. I don't want to choke her."

"That can wait until morning," LT said with a sigh as he ran his hands through his dark hair. "I have some bad news."

"Great," Ramirez muttered.

"First, I can't get any communications through to Command. We'll likely need to be out of this cave and away from the snow in order to get anything through."

"We'll have to dig out of all of that snow first," Rivers pointed out, nodding towards the blocked entrance. "And who knows how much snow fell."

LT nodded. "Beyond that, even if we ration the food extremely tightly, we likely only have enough for four or five days."

There was silence, and then I asked, "Can we even dig out of this in four or five days?"

His mouth was set into a grim line. "We're going to have to try."

"Is there any _good_ news?" Carson asked, arms akimbo.

Rivers pointed to the small fire near a sleeping Dr. Young. "The cave ceiling has enough cracks to allow the smoke to escape, so we can keep warm."

"But there wasn't much fuel in here," Ramirez pointed out. "We'll have enough of the gel for… a few days?"

"Always an optimist," LT muttered. "There's nothing we can do right now. We need to let the snow settle a bit before we start trying to dig out. Normally, I'd suggest that we leave a couple of men on watch, but…"

"But no one is going to come out to look for us in an avalanche," Carson said. "So, we should just get some sleep?"

LT nodded. "Let's get some sleep. Our heads will be clearer in the morning."

The last thing that I saw before I drifted off was the steady rise and fall of Dr. Young's chest.


	3. Remember When

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone! Thanks so much for coming back to another chapter of my story! I hope that you've found it enjoyable thus far. I want to extend a special thank you to those of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and private messaged.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

 **Happy Reading!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Three: Remember When**

 _Steve_

The box of memories was hidden at the very back of my closet, where it had taken up residence since my move back home. I'd taken it out a few times, but "out of sight, out of mind" had largely been my philosophy regarding the memories of my past life.

I took the box into the living room and set it on the coffee table as I sank down onto the couch with a sigh. The black shoe box _seemed_ innocent enough, but I knew what I would be getting myself into if I opened that lid and rifled through the contents. Seeing Bailey – and finding out that she now lived on the island with her new family – had been incredibly hard. Why did I want to make it harder on myself? Why had I ever even created this box? And why had I brought it with me to Hawaii when I claimed that I wanted to completely heal?

With no answer in mind, I lifted the lid and closed my fingers around the first item that they touched. It was a picture of Bailey and me – grinning and glowing on our wedding day. She really didn't seem as though she had aged at all; she had good genes, she'd always said. The laughter on her face and in her eyes tugged at pieces of my heart that I'd thought could never be touched again.

The memory was painful, so I put the picture back and pulled out a necklace that she had left behind. It was a silver chain with a tiny pendant. _Live with intention_ was the inscription around the edge of the circle, a saying that had gotten her through the toughest days of medical school, Bailey had claimed.

A hand-written grocery list came out next – the last one that Bailey had ever left on our fridge. Her careful cursive filled the white lined paper: _apples, milk, eggs, bread, cream of tartar, toothpaste, brown sugar, chocolate chips…_

I set it aside and then came up with my wedding ring. The simple silver band was inscribed on the inside with the words: _And then it all began_. Tears blurred my vision as I remembered when she'd given it to me.

My front door swung open and I quickly blinked the tears back and tossed the ring into the box, putting the lid over it as I looked up to see who my intruder was.

Naturally, it was Danny.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him as I pushed the box to one corner of the coffee table, hoping that he wouldn't ask me what it was.

He held up the white bag in his hand. "I brought dinner." The smell of burgers and fries made my mouth water.

I stood to take the bag from him and led him towards the kitchen, hoping that I didn't look as upset as I felt. I wasn't in the habit of sharing my feelings; I didn't even like for people to know that I had them at all. "Did we have plans tonight that I forgot about?" I knew that we didn't. He was likely checking on me after my run-in with Bailey earlier.

"No, no plans," he said and took a seat at the small table. "Just, uh… bored, I guess. Grace is with Rachel and I didn't have anything else to do."

"There have been plenty of times that you've had nothing to do in the evenings and _very rarely_ has it led to you bringing dinner." I fetched him a beer from the fridge, opened one for myself, and watched him dole out the food. "I'd better get you a plate, before you make a mess all over the table."

He looked at me like I'd just sprouted a second head. "That's what tables are _for_."

"Not in this house." Perhaps I took cleanliness a bit too far sometimes, but I blamed it on my time in the Navy.

With a dramatic sigh, he took the plate and dumped his food out onto it, spilling a few fries on the floor in the process.

I waved my hand at them, exasperated. "See what I'm talking about? You're an animal!"

Danny held his hands up as if in surrender as he bent down to pick them up. "Okay, okay! I'm picking 'em up, all right? Calm down. Have you gotten that OCD checked yet?"

"Ha, ha." After he had thrown away the fallen fries, I sat down and we began to eat.

To his credit, he eased into it slowly, choosing to start with a conversation about the SEAL we'd caught only a few hours earlier. He talked about the sentence that he would likely get, and about how a couple of my actions had been "reckless and stupid". But, according to him, "that's not surprising".

There was a short silence, and then he said what I knew he'd come to say. "I wanted to make sure you were all right after… well… you know."

"After I ran into my ex-wife, whom you knew nothing about." I popped a few fries into my mouth. "Right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full, but yes. You seemed… I don't even know the word for it… shocked? When you heard her name, you just kind of froze. I've never known you to do that. Rush into danger without a thought for the consequences? Yes. Freeze up? Never. So… talk to me."

"There's really not much to say, Danny." My mind went to the box sitting in my living room. "All that's left between us now is a bunch of memories."

Without missing a beat, he said, "Well, I don't think that's true. I _am_ a detective, you know, and what I saw in that room today was not two people who have nothing left between them. I saw two people who have _years_ of history together. I saw two people that were madly in love, and might even _still_ be madly in love."

I stood to take the plates to the sink, needing something to do with my hands. "She's married, Danny. She has a family, and I'm not a part of that. She's moved on."

"Maybe a little bit. But not entirely. And neither have you, obviously. How much did Catherine know about her?"

Danny obviously had no intention of just letting it go, so I decided that I would just give him the bare bones of everything that he asked for. "Catherine knew _of_ her, but had never actually met her. She knew that we had been married for a couple of years. That's about it; I didn't like to talk about it." I threw the next comment over my shoulder. "And still don't."

"Noted. So, why did the two of you get divorced?"

It felt like he'd thrown a ton of bricks on my chest. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe and my heart began to pound. I wasn't in my kitchen in Hawaii anymore… I was in Virginia and Bailey was screaming as I stood by, helpless.

"Steve?" Danny's voice penetrated my thoughts.

I shook them out of my head and went back to loading the dishwasher. "I don't want to talk about it, Danny. It's complicated."

Something on my face must have convinced him to leave it alone, because he slowly nodded and took a long swig of his beer. "Okay. Are you going to be able to handle having her on the island?"

"I don't exactly have a choice. She was stationed here for who knows how long, and I have a task force to run. I doubt that we'll run into each other again."

"Because if we ever have to go to base again, you'll send someone else?"

Obviously, but I didn't agree. "The life that I had with Bailey was over a long time ago. I was excited about this job in Hawaii because I thought that a little distance would help with the final stages of healing. It may be a little harder now, but I assure you that I am _fine_."

He nodded. "Okay. Just do me a favor and stay aware. It didn't take long for Rachel and I to fall in love again."

"She's married, Danny."

He gave me a pointed look. "So was – _is_ – Rachel. And look what happened with us. The whole thing is a mess. Just tell me one thing, though, okay?"

I gave a longsuffering sigh. " _What_?"

" _How_ did a beautiful, intelligent, successful _doctor_ wind up married to _you_?"

Despite the ache in my chest, I laughed. "I'm not sure I have an answer for you, to be honest."

"Didn't think so." He gulped down the last of his beer and tossed his empty bottle into the trash can. "Can I have another beer?" At my look, he adopted an innocent expression. "We can talk about _whatever_ you want to talk about, I promise. As long as you know that I'm here for you and I will support you no matter what."

"Thanks, Danny." I tossed him another beer, grabbed one for myself, and then rejoined him at the table.

We talked well into the night, but the box of memories on my coffee table never completely left my mind.

It likely never would.

 _Bailey_

"How's my favorite psychiatrist?" Tom asked by way of greeting. "Enjoying the beach?"

"What I'm _not_ enjoying is finding out that my ex-husband runs a task force on the island." I slid into my car and shut the door a bit harder than was necessary. "I thought we had an unspoken agreement that you'd let me know if you heard any news about Steve moving?"

There was a slightly longer than normal pause. "Yeah, about that…"

"Spill," I demanded.

"What I'd heard was only rumors. His father died – which _I_ told you about, if you'll recall – and he went to Hawaii for the funeral. When I found out that he had decided to join the Navy Reserves instead of continuing his career as a SEAL, I just figured that he was tracking down his father's killer. Because, you know…"

"That's a totally _Steve_ thing to do," I finished. "Yes. And then?" The guard at the gate waved me through, and I flashed him a small smile as I pulled past him.

"Well, I really only found out for sure that he was in Hawaii permanently three weeks ago. And by then, you were already the psychiatrist there. There really wasn't anything to do at that point. I kind of hoped that you'd just never run into him."

I sighed. "Unfortunately, fate is cruel." I quickly filled him in on Steve's visit.

"That doesn't sound _too_ awkward," he assured me.

"It was."

"Well… it'll get better. And what are the chances that you'll see him again?"

"What were the chances that I'd have to see him _this time_?"

"True, but… let's just focus on the positives. Go home, have dinner with your family, and try to forget about him. And also forget about the fact that I didn't warn you. I like being your friend."

Tom and I had been friends since medical school, even after he'd decided to pursue emergency medicine while I went into psychiatry. He currently worked at a base in Virginia… the same base where Steve was still supposed to be.

"I just have to make it through a year and then my contract here will be up and I can request to be transferred."

"If Jacob can get transferred," he reminded me. "I thought he was excited about being moved to SDVT?"

"He was, but I think he misses the mainland. I don't think it would be too hard to convince him to put in for a transfer."

"What do you think the chances are that Steve will leave the island?"

I shook my head. "Not good. I think he's enjoying the task force. I did a little research, and he pretty much has free rein to do whatever he wants in the pursuit of justice. That's right up Steve's alley."

"A year isn't so long."

"Yeah…" I sighed. "If you hear anything else that may be important – _rumor or not_ – call me, okay?"

"Will do. Sorry about the slip." He sounded sheepish.

"I forgive you… this time," I teased. "Give my best to Beth and the kids."

"Of course. Talk to you again soon."

"Absolutely. Bye."

"Bye."

I set the phone aside and turned the radio up, singing along to try to drown out all of the racing thoughts in my head. You'd think that all of the psychotherapeutic tools I'd picked up in my studies would have helped, but they proved useless.

But how was I _supposed_ to feel about running into my ex? Especially when I'd thought that he was thousands of miles and an ocean away? I'd been blindsided by the whole thing, so it was only natural that I should feel like I was reeling. I would go back to normal in a day or two. And it _was_ pretty unlikely that I'd ever see him again.

By the time that I made it home, I felt a little bit better.

"Mom!" Ethan all but tackled me as soon as I came through the door, and Sarah was right on his heels. Both of them looked rather wound up, their cheeks red and brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

I wrapped my arms around them both and smiled. "What have you two been up to?"

"We challenged Dad to a Nerf war," Ethan declared and then frowned. "We lost."

"We lost _big_!" Sarah clarified.

"Well, perhaps your first mistake was challenging a SEAL to a game that involves stealth and shooting weapons."

"I told you so," Sarah said.

Ethan rolled his eyes with attitude far beyond his six years. "Come on. We still have to find him."

Just as he finished his sentence, my husband rushed into the room and scooped both of the children up, spinning them around as they squealed and giggled.

"And now you're my prisoners!" he declared in a faux growl. "You'll have to call a hostage negotiator!"

"Mom!" Sarah squealed.

"Mom, help!" Ethan laughed.

"Pause, pause," I decreed and stepped in to kiss Jacob when he stopped spinning for a moment. "How was your day?"

"Keeps getting better and better," he said. "I love the team, the guys are awesome, and training is great." He grinned widely, eyes sparkling.

I felt so happy for him… but I was also a little bit disappointed. If he didn't like it as much as his old team, maybe there would be a chance to move away when my contract was up. But that didn't seem to be the case. "That's great."

"Did you have plans for dinner?" He set the kids back on their feet and they took off, chasing each other through the house. They'd certainly inherited their father's endless energy, as well as his deep brown eyes the color of melted chocolate.

I moved for the kitchen, Jacob on my heels. "I was going to do some chicken alfedo. Did you put the water on to boil like I asked?"

He smiled guiltily. "I didn't. I was a little busy with domestic warfare."

Rolling my eyes, I began to start on dinner. "Well, then I'll start it and you can go and make sure that every single one of those Nerf bullets is picked up before we eat. Did the kids finish their homework?"

"They didn't have any. Finished it all at school." He kissed me quickly. "They're incredibly intelligent, just like their mother."

I smiled and waved him away. "All right, shoo. Let me get us fed."

"Yes, ma'am." With one more kiss, he darted from the room. Moments later, I heard the kids squealing with delight.

Perhaps I should have immediately told him about finding Steve on the island…

But I didn't.

I justified it to myself with the thought that I was over him, anyway, and the odds of running into him again were incredibly low. It was nothing that Jacob needed to have on his mind, anyway. He was so new to the team here, and he needed to focus on his training with them.

They were excuses, but I didn't care. My mind was spinning too much to have a rational conversation about my ex-husband being there in Hawaii. Maybe once everything calmed down, I would tell Jacob that I had run into Steve.

But for now, there was nothing that could stop the onslaught of memories.

Particularly, the memory of a small cave in the Alps, in the aftermath of an avalanche.


	4. Here, There Is Rest

… **..**

 **Hi, everyone! I'm so glad that you've decided to come back for another chapter of my story. Thank you so much to those of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and private messaged. Your support means the world to me.**

 **I'm sorry that I got this chapter up a lot later than intended – I know that I told several people that had messaged me that I planned to have it up Wednesday, but the dreaded stomach bug hit our home this past week. I got it, my two children got it, and my husband smugly remained bug-free and took care of all of us. Yesterday was the first day that we all felt better, so we spent it taking it easy. I hope you've all managed to stay stomach bug-free during this crazy season. WASH YOUR HANDS!**

 **There is good news, though. As a reward for your patience, I will be putting up THREE chapters this week! Yay! They're already edited and waiting, so now I just have to get them posted. I hope you're as excited as I am.**

 **Anyways… if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance! You all are the best!**

 **Happy Reading!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Four: Here, There Is Rest**

 **Twelve Years Ago**

 _Steve_

Dr. Young's fever took two days to disappear. At one point, Carson had said that he was worried that she wouldn't make it through another night, and we'd all taken shifts staying up to watch her and make sure that she was still breathing.

My shift had passed slowly as worry and concern clawed at me. This doctor – this woman – had volunteered for a dangerous program in a dangerous part of the world. She'd known the risks, and she'd signed on anyway because she believed in what she was doing. She had wanted to make herself available to soldiers dealing with the worst kind of trauma. Soldiers very much like me.

Her breaths weren't strong, but they were _there_ , and I prayed to a God that I wasn't even one hundred percent sure that I believed in that she would recover and grow stronger with each passing hour. If anyone deserved mercy, it was this brave woman. Surely, after going through the hell that she'd endured, a loving God would grant her peace.

That peace came the next afternoon.

"Hey, hey, she's awake!" Carson exclaimed excitedly.

The rest of us had been finishing our "lunch" while he checked on her, but we quickly scurried over to see what was happening.

Dr. Young's eyes were, indeed, open. They were also the color of a clear sky warmed by a burning sun. Her skin was pale, her blonde hair dirty and tangled, but she was so wonderfully _alive_.

Carson shined a light in each of her eyes and then asked her if she remembered what had happened. When she answered with a weak "no", he told her about the rescue mission gone wrong due to a fallen helo and an avalanche. He also did some quick introductions and then asked Ramirez to get her some water.

"There's plenty of fresh water," Carson said conversationally as he hung the last bag of fluids that he had for her. "We've been trying to dig our way out of this cave for a few days, so there's lots of snow to boil and drink."

"And use to cover-"

I elbowed Rivers in the stomach before he could finish that thought. In a low voice, I told him, "She doesn't want to hear about that." She was a doctor and I was certain that she'd seen more disgusting things, but still.

"She's going to have to use the bathroom eventually, too, you know," he mumbled back, but let it go.

She drank plenty of water, coughed a few times, and then asked Carson, "You're the medic, then?"

He nodded. "I am. But now we have a _real_ doctor on hand."

Her laughter ended in a fit of coughing. "Sorry," she apologized and drank some more water. "What antibiotic did they send?"

"Zithromax," he responded. "I used the last bag of it last night."

"We're lucky they sent a few extra in case of an emergency," LT said softly. "Or this might have gone a little differently."

We all knew that he meant that she would have succumbed to her pneumonia by now.

She nodded towards the IV. "Fluids?"

Carson nodded. "The last bag. But now that you're awake, you should be able to drink some water to rehydrate yourself."

"And _eat_ something," Rivers spoke up. He didn't need to mention how malnourished she looked – we'd seen that from the moment we'd pulled her out of that tent. Her captors obviously hadn't cared how well she'd been taken care of.

"I'm not hungry," she said softly and closed her eyes as if she was in pain. "I'm still pretty weak and dehydrated. My head is killing me."

"I have some acetaminophen." Carson began to dig for it, but she shook her head.

"No. Save that for when we really need it."

"You should definitely try to eat something, then," he told her in a stern voice.

"How do you even have food out here if it was just supposed to be a quick smash and grab job?" she asked.

"We always have MREs packed," LT answered her. "Be prepared for everything."

"Plus, we grabbed some food from the camp when we realized we would have to run," Ramirez put in.

"We'll help you sit up so that you can eat," Carson decided and waved me forward. "Steve, help me get her up. Ramirez and Rivers, roll those blankets up to put behind her so that she can rest against the wall. LT, can you make sure that the IV doesn't get tangled up?"

I stepped forward to slip my arm beneath her, unsurprised that we moved her with little effort. She had a lot of weight to gain back, when all of this was over.

Once she was comfortable, LT told everyone to get back to digging. Except… "Stay behind," he told me with a nod to Dr. Young. "Keep her company. The only thing keeping us from being bored out of our damn minds is the digging, and Lord knows she can't help us with that."

No, she wasn't going to be in a condition to do hard labor for many months, thanks to those assholes. But… "What am _I_ supposed to talk to her about? She's a _doctor_." Her intelligence had to be twice that of mine. And I doubted that we had much in common.

The look that he gave me put me back in my place. "I get that you'd rather be helping us dig out, but someone needs to keep her calm and reassured. Right now, that someone is you. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

With a stiff nod, he headed off to join the others.

I grabbed a couple of MRE packages and some more water and then joined Dr. Young on the floor. "My name is Steve McGarrett," I reminded her. "Mind if I keep you company while the rest of the guys are tunneling out?"

Those baby blues turned on me with surprise and curiosity. "Surely you'd rather be helping them than sitting here with a near invalid?"

Wow, she was good. It had taken her less than five seconds to figure that out. But I shook my head. "I'm right where I need to be."

She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. Then tell me about you, Steve McGarrett."

"Why do you psych people always want to get in people's heads?" I was only half joking. With every eval I'd been forced to undergo, there was a mental health professional wanting to dig in and figure out what made me tick. None of them had ever completely succeeded. At least… I didn't think so.

The slight narrowing of her eyes told me that she had homed in on that. "You don't like to talk about yourself?"

"No. I mean… there's really not much to say. I'm pretty boring."

"I don't like to talk about myself, either."

I felt my eyebrows raise in surprise. "Really? I thought all you mental health people were all about talking and sharing?"

Her laugh was weak, but still musical and full of a lightness that I desired. Nothing had felt light for me in a long time. "Not all of us. For me, I just feel that there are _millions_ of more interesting things to talk about than where I grew up or what my college major was."

"What _was_ your college major?" I asked her. "Psych?"

"No. I didn't know that I wanted to do psychiatry until I was in my third year of medical school. I majored in Biochemistry."

The thought of spending hours in a lab mixing chemicals and graphing results made me want to bang my head against a wall. "Did you always know that you wanted to go to medical school?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She smiled, and there was a sudden determination in her eyes that called to an intimate part of myself. "I love a good challenge. Medical school is competitive and very, _very_ hard. I chose psychiatry for the challenge, too. It's a very quickly-evolving field. They're coming out with new studies every month. And the diagnosing can be… well… incredibly challenging is an understatement. But it's also incredibly rewarding."

"And this program?" I asked her. "Did you accept it because it was a challenge?"

"I did military psychiatry because my father was a marine that lived for years with undiagnosed PTSD. Psychiatry is a very in-demand specialty, and especially so in the military. I wanted to go where I could do the most good. This program…" Suddenly, she closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. "I was supposed to be helping people."

The anxiety and sadness rolled off of her in waves, and I reached out and grabbed her hand without a thought. Surprised, she opened her eyes, looked at my hand, and then looked up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You did," I assured her. "You've been helping soldiers since the moment your plane touched down. What happened to you… it was a freak thing, okay? But it doesn't undo all of the good that you've done."

A tear escaped and she quickly wiped it away and gave me a shaky smile. "Thanks. _I'm_ usually the one giving comfort to emotional patients."

"I think you've earned the right to be emotional, after everything." Slowly – and regretfully – I withdrew my hand and opened the MRE. "You should eat something. I'm sorry that it's not exactly gourmet, but you _do_ have a few choices. Let's see here…" I read them off as I went through them. "Spaghetti with meat sauce, corn, pound cake, or chipotle snack bread."

"I'm really not that hungry," she protested. "You all should save that food for yourselves. You need energy to tunnel out of here."

" _You_ need energy to fight off the last of this pneumonia," I argued right back. "If you're not that hungry, I recommend the pound cake. It's not very filling, but it might do for you."

She nodded and then watched as I expertly prepared it for her. She thanked me when I handed it to her, a small smile playing on her bow lips. "You're very good at that."

"I've had a lot of practice. I will warn you, though, if there's cheese spread with any of your meals, I'd steer clear."

"Thanks for the tip." She took a small bite of the pound cake and nodded. "Not bad. Then again, I haven't eaten much in the last several weeks."

"They won't be winning any awards anytime soon, but they get the job done." I smiled at her. "Do you like to cook?"

She spent the next ten minutes making me salivate over her baking stories.

"That's it," I concluded. "Once we're back stateside, you _have_ to make me a batch of your grandmother's snickerdoodles."

"It's a deal," she agreed and finished off the last bite of pound cake. "I'm stuffed."

Unsurprising, really. She was just getting over a terrible illness. "Good. Drink some water. Or there's disgusting coffee, if you'd prefer?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I'll stick with the water, thanks. It has an odd taste, but it's refreshing."

"I think boiled water always has an odd taste." As I spoke, I watched the graceful arch of her jaw as she drank and hated myself for it. She'd just been rescued from a terrible hostage situation and I was actually tempted to flirt with her… I needed to get a hold of myself.

Once she'd had her fill of water, she encouraged me to go and help the others dig. "I really need to get some more rest, and you'll be much more useful to them than as a bodyguard to me while I sleep."

It was a fair point. Still, I was loathe to leave her, and not necessarily because I thought that she needed a bodyguard. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," she said and winced as she tried to move. "Just maybe help me get back down onto the ground?"

"Of course."

More gently than I'd ever done anything in my entire life, I slipped my arms around her and picked her up, adjusting the blankets with my feet before placing her on them. She shifted ever so slightly and then smiled at me. "Thanks."

Throat tight, I nodded at her.

Within seconds, she was asleep.

I should have stood up and headed off to help the rest of my team with their tunneling efforts. Or even gone to make myself a cup of crappy coffee to help get me through the rest of the day. Instead, I knelt there for a few moments longer, just watching her. And as I did, something that I couldn't place shifted inside my chest…

Like two magnets clicking together, their own private language whispering, _I belong right here_.

Try though I did to ignore it, it was there.

For the next two days, I volunteered to watch over Bailey (as she'd asked me to call her) and keep her company while the rest of the team worked at digging us out of there. We talked about anything and everything – our favorite movies, worst dates, first kisses – except for the fact that the rations were dwindling and we only had food for a few more days, at best. And that was after we had _already_ cut down the rations. Bailey didn't eat much, but that wasn't enough to offer a tremendous amount of help.

LT had told me that my job was to keep Bailey distracted and from finding out about the anxiety-inducing lack of food. She already wanted us to keep all the food for ourselves, and she would only grow more stubborn if she knew that it was going to run out soon.

So, I talked to her about my past, even though I'd been so against it a couple of days prior. She just listened, for the most part, unless I asked for her opinion. _"I'm not a therapist_ ," she would say, _"but in my opinion…"_ She was working on getting her counseling degree to better serve her patients, and she told me that I was excellent practice.

I didn't mind talking to her, which was surprising to me. I'd never been one to open up to people – especially people that I hadn't known for very long – but there was something different about Bailey that made it so easy. Maybe it was her own openness and willingness to talk about anything, or maybe it was just _her_ and her refreshing outlook on life. Whatever it was, I found myself spilling more and more to her in that little cave in the Alps.

"What happens in the Alps stays in the Alps, right?" I asked her one evening as we ate spaghetti with meat sauce together. I'd told LT that I would split my package with her, but I'd given her the bigger half when she'd been distracted. She needed it more than I did.

"You're not technically a patient, but just for you, I'll extend the same confidentiality. How's that?"

I nodded my agreement. "Because if the guys ever found out about that date…"

She held back her laughter, but it was still dancing in her eyes. "Don't worry. Your embarrassment is safe with me."

"Good."

She had just opened her mouth to say something else when there was an excited shout from the cave entrance. I stood to see what was going on, but everyone was talking all at once and the chatter only died down when LT called out.

"We're out!" Rivers shouted, and the cheering was practically deafening.

With an efficiency that was trained into every SEAL officer, LT sent Carson and Ramirez out to scout the area. The rest of us were to pack up and be ready to move out as soon as we knew where to go. Suddenly, the cave was a mess of activity.

"Okay," Bailey said slowly as she observed what was going on. "I get that I'm technically in the military, but all this lingo has me a bit lost."

I smiled and sat back down to quickly finish my meal. "We've finally tunneled out safely. Carson and Ramirez are going to go out and see if they can find a village or somewhere that we might be able to get help."

"You guys didn't bring a sat phone?" she frowned.

"It got lost in the snow."

"Oh." Her tone was grim. "Then let's hope that the nearby villagers are in a helpful mood."


	5. As Fate Would Have It

… **..**

 **Hey, everyone! Thanks for coming back to another chapter of my story! This one has been quite a challenge to write, but I'm finding that I enjoy it immensely. How do you all feel that it's going? I love hearing from you, so don't hold back!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

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… **..**

 **Chapter Five: As Fate Would Have It…**

 _Steve_

When I saw the car on the side of the road, I automatically veered off to see what was going on. My instinct to help was apparently stronger than my instinct to scope out the situation, because it was only after I'd stepped out of my truck that I realized that I knew the driver of the black SUV.

Bailey.

 _Too late to drive away now, McGarrett…_

But I knew that I wouldn't have driven away in any case. She was alone, speaking desperately into her cell phone, and didn't even hear me approach. She obviously wasn't prepared to handle the situation alone.

"Never learned to change a tire?" I asked her once I was close enough, and she whipped around, eyes wide.

Once she recognized me, she huffed. "I'll get to it."

"That's what you said eleven or twelve years ago."

She opened her mouth to respond to me, but then the person on the phone must have said something, because she said, "I'm here," and then stopped to listen. As she did, I glanced at her completely flat front tire. Then, my gaze moved to her.

A black dress flowed to sparkly silver flats and a colorful, flowery cardigan flapped with the gentle breeze. Her blonde hair was up in a neat bun, and I was surprised at how much I wished it were down. Her hair had always been magnificent – thick and shiny. I could remember how it would steadily begin to wave as it dried after a shower, ending with a wild wave that she called "crazy" and I called "gorgeous".

 _That's more than enough_ , I reprimanded myself, and cleared my throat. If I didn't distract myself, my mind would venture into _very_ unwelcome places. "I can change it for you and then drive you wherever you need to go while you leave it in the shop."

"Hold on, please," Bailey requested and then put her hand over her phone to speak to me. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother…" She hesitated, clearly torn. "But the tow truck is an hour out."

"It's no trouble."

After only a moment's hesitation, she nodded and went back to her conversation. "I won't be needing you after all. A friend has just shown up and offered to help. Thank you for your time."

"Jack?" I asked once she'd hung up.

"In the back," she responded and went to open it for me. "It's a good one, I think. Jacob bought it for me and told me it's a lot better than the one that came with the car."

It _was_ a good jack, and I had the car up in no time.

"I feel useless," was her confession as she stood and watched me begin to take off the lug nuts.

I couldn't help my smile. "You wouldn't be useless if you'd ever learned how to change a tire. I offered to teach you, you know. _Several_ times."

"I remember," she said, and it sounded like she was speaking through her teeth.

"So, why didn't you? Learn, I mean."

She sighed and began to pace behind me, much like she'd used to do when she was stressed or venting. " _Why_ should I learn? Our insurance covers as many tows as we need, so I can just get it towed to a shop and get it done there. Or Jacob can do it for me."

"Well, Jacob's not here and the tow truck was going to take an hour." I glanced over my shoulder at her. "So…?"

Bailey rolled her eyes at me. "Just change the tire, Steve. No commentary necessary."

There was a small sense of victory at getting on her nerves. _I've still got it._ "Okay. How are you liking Hawaii?"

"It's nice, but I think I'm going to miss the seasons."

"You mean _winter_ , not the seasons," I corrected her. I could remember how anxiously she had waited for the winter. Her joy as the towns began to decorate for Christmas. The look of pure bliss on her face as she watched the snow fall.

"Yeah, winter. And there's something so _distant_ about living out here, you know? Sort of away from everything. Everything is beautiful, sure, but I'm not a beach person, and beaches are ninety percent of the appeal of the islands."

"Is it the _beaches_ you don't like, or the water?" I asked her and gently lifted the tire off. "Or did you finally grow to like the water?"

"I don't think water and I will ever see eye to eye."

When she was ten, she'd fallen off of her family's boat and had been sucked under the water. They'd pulled her out and she'd been uninjured, but the fear had been enough to keep her out of the water since. When we'd been married, I had tried numerous times to convince her to let me take her swimming, but she'd firmly refused. She wanted as little to do with the water as possible.

"I know of some beginner's classes, if you're ever interested."

She laughed and I looked over just in time to see her roll her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Jacob never suggested that you learn?"

"He has. I refuse. The kids can swim, though, so that's all that really matters."

I felt a pang in my chest when she mentioned her children. I knew that she had them, of course. It was just something that I tried not to think about. "That's good. Do they like it here?" I didn't really want to know, but it seemed like the most logical topic after her statement.

But, of course, she saw right through me. "You don't have to ask about my family, Steve. That can't be fun for you."

No, it wasn't. Not that I cared to admit that. "We're going to be living on the same island for a while, I assume. And since we've already run into each other _twice_ in less than a week, I'm thinking that the odds of us running into each other again are actually pretty high. I figure we might as well be friendly."

" _Friendly_?" she asked me, her expression completely neutral.

A blush crept up the back of my neck and I hastily began to fasten the tire into place. "You know… _cordial_."

"I like 'friendly' better." There was something in her voice that hinted at strong emotion, but when I glanced over to see if I could read her expression, she'd already masked it. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Would you like to come over for dinner sometime?"

"Come over, like… to your house?" Of course that was what she meant, but my brain was having a lot of trouble processing it.

"Yes, to our house," she chuckled at my surprise. "I can still cook."

"And bake?" The hint of hopefulness in my voice made her laugh. "I'm not kidding."

"Unable to get my Reese's cupcakes out of your head?" she teased.

"I'm unable to get _a lot_ about you out of my head." The words were out before I had a chance to stop them, and I instantly regretted them.

But just as I was about to apologize, she spoke very seriously. "I know the feeling."

Something raw and powerful passed between us, but it disappeared as a semi passed at unlawful speeds.

Bailey noticed and nodded her head in the direction of the truck. "Do you want to go chase him down?"

"Not right now." I checked my work and then straightened up. "I'm good to follow you to your shop whenever you're ready."

She nodded and went to climb inside.

The drive to her mechanic's shop was spent telling myself that emotions were not my friend when it came to Bailey. I needed to keep a level head if any kind of friendship with her was going to work.

But how, exactly, could I control my emotions? Especially around her? She was the first woman that had ever won my heart, and also the first one that had ever broken it. There was always something special about the first…

"I can have someone from work drop me off later, so you don't have to come back," Bailey informed me as she climbed into my truck.

My offer to come and get her on her lunch break died in my throat. "Oh. Great." But it _wasn't_ great. Because as much as I had been telling myself that being too involved in her life wouldn't be good for either of us, I wanted to see her as much as possible.

I apparently liked to play with fire.

"I really appreciate you doing this, though," she told me sincerely as we pulled out of the parking lot. "I've already missed several patients and having to miss an extra _hour_ for the tow truck would have made everything so much worse."

"No problem. I like to help."

"Yeah, I know." She smiled over at me. "Why else would you head up a task force to cut through the red tape and help people in a way that the system just _can't_?"

"I didn't even want to take the job," I confessed, and I could feel her surprise. "I know, I know… It sounds like the perfect job for someone like me, but…" I sighed. "I really only took it so that I could avenge my father."

Very quietly, she said, "I heard about what happened, Steve. I… I'm so sorry."

"I was terrible to you when you called." I'd been on my way back to Hawaii for my father's funeral when I'd received the call from Bailey. My emotions had been all over the place after the trauma and I'd harshly snapped at her. She had offered to come and be with me if I needed someone, but I'd turned her away. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. A trauma like that could shake _anyone_ to the core."

"I could have handled it better."

She shrugged. "Well, we'll never know. It's in the past and that's where it'll stay. But thank you for the apology. I accept."

Stopping at a red light, I looked over at her. "And am I forgiven?"

With that smile that had first hooked me, she said, "I'll forgive you… _if_ you come to dinner at my house. This Saturday."

"This Saturday?" That seemed so _soon_.

Her smile fell slightly. "Oh, sorry. Did you have plans?"

"No, no. I'll come. What time?"

"Six should work."

The light turned green and I depressed the gas pedal. "Should I bring anything?"

"Wine. Unless you've become proficient with a stove."

I shot her a glare and she laughed, filling the car with the only music I would never tire of.

 _Bailey_

"Thank you." I took my receipt from the associate and headed for the door. I'd felt rushed with all of my patients that day due to my flat tire incident that morning, there hadn't been time to eat the lunch that I'd packed, and it just seemed like the world was working against me. The only peaceful moments in my day had been my moments with Steve.

Of course it had to be him.

Hundreds of thousands of people lived on the island, but _he's_ the one that had happened to be driving by at that time.

And instead of thanking him for his help and letting him be on his merry way, I'd _invited him over for dinner_.

As I pulled out of the car shop's parking lot, I tried to forget how peaceful I'd felt there with him. My morning had been terrible… I'd been running behind already because Sarah had forgotten her backpack, and then my tire had gone flat halfway to work… And then Steve had shown up and brought with him this sense of… _safety_.

Steve had always made me feel safe. I mean, he had literally rescued me from extremist captors once upon a time. How could I not feel safe with a guy like that? But it was – and always had been – more than just a physical safety. I knew that no matter what, Steve would do whatever it took to protect me.

I'd thought that feeling would change after the divorce, but it hadn't. Then, I had moved away and we had hardly had ten conversations since then. That feeling would _have_ to have gone away since then, right? But, no… It had been there, just as strong as it had always been.

Would it ever go away? Or was I doomed to always have such strong feelings for this man that I had parted from nearly a decade ago? I had run and run and _run_ from him – physically and emotionally – for years. I'd crossed an entire _ocean_ to live as far away from him as I could get. Thousands of miles away, and he was somehow still there. The odds were astonishing.

I made it home and eagerly hugged my kids, allowing them to distract me with stories about their day. Sarah had drawn me a picture, and she giggled as I made up art terms to describe how amazing it was. We all had dinner together and there was a big discussion about who would win in a fight between Batman and Aquaman.

After dinner, my husband and I tag teamed it to get the kids bathed and into bed. There was much resistance and many glasses of water before they were finally down for the night. Then, we both returned to the kitchen so that we could do the dishes together.

I asked him about his day and he began to tell me about the training and the guys that he was working with. I listened, all the while nervous about the news that I had for him. It wasn't that he disliked Steve… they'd never really gotten to know one another. It was just that two years into our marriage he'd figured out that a part of me would always love Steve. That jealousy… it wasn't easy for him to overcome. And I had a feeling that one of the reasons that he'd been so excited about the move was that we'd be even further from my ex.

Surprise…

"You seem pretty far away," he told me at one point.

I forced a smile and took the plate that he'd just handed me. "Not far away. Just… I have some news."

"Okay." Unbothered, he began to wash another plate.

"You know that I got a flat tire this morning."

"Yes, I got your text." He smiled at me. "Is this where you tell me that it was a very expensive repair and the associate tricked you into getting way more than you needed?"

I rolled my eyes at him, but that actually _had_ happened before. "No. I'm too smart for that. _Anyway_ …" I glared at him when he laughed. "I'm serious."

"I'm sorry." He handed me the plate that he'd washed and dried his hands on the towel. "What's up?" Casually, he folded his arms and leaned a hip against the marble countertop.

Suddenly, I was very grateful for the wet plate in my hands. I needed something to _do_. "We'll be having a guest for dinner this Friday."

"Oh, okay. A friend of yours from work?"

I could see why he would think that. I'd already brought home a couple of the people I worked with. "No, um… I ran into an old friend. He actually moved to the island not too long ago and we ran into each other."

Jacob was silent.

Finally finished drying the plate, I put it away and then turned to face him.

His expression was unreadable, which was never a good sign.

"It's Steve," I said before he took it too far in his head. "He's heading up the governor's task force here on the island and we ran into each other while he was working a case. I thought that if we're going to be on the same island, we might as well try to get along."

He nodded his head slowly and then tossed the dish towel onto the island. In his expression, I saw both exasperation and annoyance. "Nowhere is far enough, is it?"

"Jacob-"

He waved me off and headed for the stairs. "Not now, Bailey."

I let him go.

Because if the roles were reversed and I knew that he felt for his ex like I felt for Steve… I would have been a little huffy, too.

But, hopefully, he would get over it.


	6. Survivors

… **..**

 **Hi, everyone! I'm so glad that you've decided to come back for another chapter of my story. Thank you so much to those of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and private messaged. Your support means the world to me.**

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 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

 **Happy Reading!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Six: Survivors**

 **Twelve Years Ago**

 _Bailey_

Steve and Carson deserved a reward for carrying me miles and miles to the monastery, where the Nepalese monks willingly took us in and vowed to do everything within their power to keep us safe from harm. They believed that it was their duty to help the lost, and we very much fit into that category. Shortly after we arrived, we were shown to our quarters – a larger room for all of the men to share and a tiny room for me. One of the monks informed me that he would prepare a bath for me, and I felt my face flame, knowing that I probably smelled disgusting after being in captivity for as long as I had been.

When I apologized to Steve for the smell he'd had to endure, he looked at me with surprise. "You don't smell disgusting. _Musty_ , maybe, but nothing terrible."

I smacked his shoulder. " _Musty_ isn't exactly _rosy_."

"It's not like you were staying at the Ritz."

No… I'd been kept in tents, sometimes bound and gagged like a wild animal. Sometimes, I had wondered if I would ever make it out alive. Towards the end, I had feared that I wouldn't.

Shuddering, I nodded. "You're right."

Sympathy flashed in Steve's eyes and he gave me an encouraging smile. "It's going to be all right. We're working on a plan."

Before I could respond, the monk came back to lead me to the room where they bathed. It was just a big metal tub filled with warm water and scented with oils, but I hadn't bathed in so long that I felt like crying at the sight of it.

"I'll stand guard just outside the door," Steve told me and then left, closing the door behind him.

I stripped out of my filthy clothes and slipped into the tub, a sigh of pleasure escaping of its own accord. The water smelled like lavender and something else that I couldn't quite identify, and the pleasantness of it was almost overwhelming.

I sat there too long, and the water had already started to chill by the time that I thought to wash up using the bar of soap that they had left. There was no shampoo or conditioner, so I used the bar of soap for my hair as well. By the time that I had finished, the water looked absolutely disgusting, and I felt terrible for whoever had to clean it out.

When I stepped out of the tub, I found a towel and a small pile of neatly folded clothes in the same shade of brown that the monks wore. The clothes were a little big, but I didn't mind. They were _clean_ , and that was all that mattered to me.

Steve was dutifully waiting right outside of the door when I came out, and he smiled when he saw me. "So, Oh Wise One, what is the meaning of life?"

"To find a brush and get these knots out of my hair."

He laughed and began to guide me back towards our quarters. "How was your bath?"

"Like heaven."

"Good." He grinned at me. "They said that they'll draw up a bath for each of us and give us some clothes. I guess we'll be monks for a while."

"Better than being trapped in a cave with dwindling rations."

His expression grew serious. "That's true."

We reached my tiny room and I was pleased to see that someone had brought a simple wooden brush and a strip of fabric that I assumed was to tie my hair up. "These people think of everything."

"Apparently." Steve leaned against the wall beside my door. "Do you need me to get you anything else before I check in with the guys?"

I shook my head. "I'm just going to stay in here and brush my hair, and maybe get a nap in. You do what you need to do. I'll see you at dinner later."

He looked like there was something else that he wanted to say – or do – but he changed his mind and walked away.

It was probably for the best.

 _Steve_

"I'm surprised that _you_ didn't volunteer," Carson told me that evening as we walked to the dining area that they called the "great hall". "Putting yourself in the most amount of danger possible is supposed to be your MO."

In the end, Rivers had been the one to volunteer to travel with a small group of the monks when they took their bi-monthly trip to a nearby town that apparently had an internet café that we could use to contact the Navy. It was a three-day trip with the wagon. That was just a bit too long for me.

"Rivers likes to hike. It's perfect for him."

"I don't think that you declined to volunteer to be courteous to Rivers." My friend gave me a knowing smile. "I feel like maybe you're growing attached to our doctor and don't want to leave her here with us."

It wasn't as though I was trying to hide anything… because I wasn't even sure what was there between me and Bailey. I had tried not to give it much thought, as there was no guarantee that we were even going to live much longer. But now that there was an end in sight, maybe it was time to think about such things.

After all, things were looking up. It wouldn't hurt to think about my future. And whether or not Bailey would be a part of that. She'd expressed that she wanted to get out of the program, so she would likely be going back to Virginia to finish up her residency. Virginia also happened to be my home base. Would it be possible to make a relationship work?

"You're all very capable SEALs," I said in response to Carson, who was watching me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"But not capable enough for you to leave the woman that you care very deeply about in our care."

He was teasing me, so I tried not to get too worked up. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever you say. Oh, look, there she is. Talking to LT."

And there she was, sitting at one of the long wooden tables, so effortlessly beautiful in her monk robes and her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She was talking animatedly with LT and Ramirez, and they seemed amused by whatever she was saying. Curious, I approached.

"So, I told him that I wasn't going to prescribe the medicine and he tried to lie to the nurse and say that I had approved it. She said that she had to check with me and he got ticked off and threw hand sanitizer at her. It hit the wall, splashed everywhere, and security took him away. He got the medicine that he wanted, though, as well as a seventy-two-hour psych hold."

They laughed and Carson and I joined them. I slid in beside Bailey and Carson sat down on my other side.

"Now that we're all here," Lt said as Carson and I began to help ourselves to the food in front of us. "I just wanted to make sure that we're all on the same page as far as what's going to be happening over the next week or so."

"I think we're pretty clear," Ramirez responded. "We wear this monk garb, Rivers hikes to the village with the _actual_ monks, and then the Navy sends a helo to get us the hell out of here."

LT flicked him an annoyed glance. "That's not all. We'll need to remain on high alert. This place isn't exactly a fortress."

"True." Carson glanced around the room. "No security cameras, no guards, and only a big door that could be rammed in if someone was determined enough."

Bailey stiffened beside me and, without thinking, I placed a reassuring hand on her knee. I felt her relax only slightly and halfway expected her to move her leg or push my hand away, but she didn't.

"One of us will be on guard at all times," LT continued. "I've cleared that with the proper man and I'll show you all the best scouting position later."

"What's the plan if something _does_ happen?" Rivers asked. "If they somehow find you all while I'm away?"

"It's not like you're a superhero that can singlehandedly protect us all," Ramirez scoffed. "I think we can manage."

LT slapped him upside the head. "If we're attacked, Dr. Young will go to the saferoom that I showed her earlier today. Hopefully, she won't be found there. The rest of us will kill as many – hopefully _all_ – of the extremists."

Carson sighed. "A bit morbid."

"It's all we've got."

The rest of the meal passed in silence and it wasn't long before Bailey announced that she was tired and wanted to go and rest. I volunteered to escort her there, and before Carson could rib me about it, LT said that it was a wonderful idea. "To be safe, maybe one of us _should_ stay with Dr. Young at all times," he mused. "As an extra precaution."

"Bailey," she corrected him and then glanced around at all of the monks still eating their meals. "Do you think that's necessary?"

"Not necessary," he said slowly. "But probably a good idea. Just to be safe."

She nodded. "I don't have a problem with that."

"I'll stay with her tonight," I volunteered.

Carson smiled and winked at me. "Yeah, good idea."

"Come on," I said and began to walk away, feeling my face start to flame. I generally prided myself on being able to conceal my emotions, but apparently Bailey had shot right through that. I was having a lot of trouble concealing my emotions around her.

"Welcome to my home," she said sardonically as we stepped inside her tiny room. It was barely big enough to be considered a hall closet back in the states, and most of the room was taken up by the mat that she was supposed to sleep on. "Sorry that I can't offer grander accommodations."

I smiled at her humor and pressed my back up against the wall, waiting for her to tell me how she wished to proceed. "I'm glad that you can retain your sense of humor in a situation like this."

"Being _here_ is much better than being trapped in a cave, not knowing when or _if_ you'll ever get out. Or being held captive by angry rebels." Slowly, she sank down onto the mat, legs drawn up to her chest. She seemed to realize the issue for the first time. "There's nowhere for you to sleep."

"I can just sit down right here," I told her. With my back against the wall and my legs drawn up, I would fit into the space just fine. I could even stretch out if I wanted to, but only just barely.

"No, that won't do," she said and in the dim light of the oil lamp hanging on the wall, I could see her cheeks pinken. "I can share the mat. They gave me two blankets, so…"

It wasn't often that I even considered turning down a woman's offer to share her bed. _But_ , with Bailey, there were other things to consider. She'd been held captive for _months_ , so who knew if any of the men had…

I ground my teeth together and had trouble even finishing the thought. If I ever found out that one of them had violated her in such a way, I knew that I would fly into a rage. The logical side of my brain said that the possibility was very high, but I pushed it away. No sense in getting angry.

"Steve?" she asked me, suddenly uncertain.

"You don't have to." I kept my voice firm, but gentle. She needed to know that she had all of the power here. After everything that she'd had to endure, she deserved that much.

"I know." Her tone of voice confirmed that she truly did. "I'm okay to share. And I don't bite. But if I _do_ , just rest assured that I've had all of my vaccines."

Bailey. Biting me. The vivid mental picture sent chills of pleasure down my spine that I had to work very, _very_ hard to suppress. "Okay, then. I guess we can share."

"Okay." She scooted over to the left side, away from the door, and I took the right. I slipped the gun out of its holster on my ankle and slid it up by my head, ready in case of an emergency. The big guns were in the quarters with my team, loaded and ready to be used at a moment's notice.

There were no pillows – because the monks didn't seem to be very concerned with comfort – but the blankets were soft and smelled pleasant. It was very much an improvement over sleeping bags on a cave floor, which I voiced to Bailey.

She laid back and wriggled around to get comfortable. "I agree. I can't rag on the cave _too_ much because we'd all be dead without it, but this place is definitely a few steps up on the comfort scale. And the monks are nice."

"Well, I'd pay _hundreds_ of dollars for a hot shower and a cheeseburger."

Rolling onto her side to face me, Bailey teased, "French fries?"

"Of course." I also rolled onto my side, facing her, our bodies mere inches apart. "And a chocolate milkshake."

"Mmm," she murmured, and the sound made my heart stutter. "Sounds heavenly."

"We'll go get one," I decided. "Once this is all over and we're back in Virginia."

"I have a feeling it'll be the best thing I've ever tasted. What about you?"

The question was perfectly innocent, but all that I could think was, _I think that the best thing that I could ever taste are your lips and your skin_. _And…_

"Steve?"

"Sorry." I snapped out of it and smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure it'll be the best thing I've ever tasted."

"You held me in the cave," she said suddenly, her eyes somewhere far away. "That first night. Didn't you?"

She'd been shivering with fever and Carson had told me that she was losing too much heat too quickly. He'd said that body heat would be the best way to keep her warm, so I had volunteered. And I'd held her all night long, praying that she would make it.

"Yes."

"Thank you." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Anytime."

Part of me hoped that she would respond to that by coming closer and snuggling into my arms. I'd never been much of a cuddler, but I knew that I could make an exception for her. She'd wormed her way into my heart in a way that I had formerly thought to be impossible. I'd always been hard and distant, but with her I had no hope of being either of those things. She had me bewitched, irrevocably and blissfully.

How was I ever going to let her go if she decided that she didn't want to stay in Virginia?

"We should sleep," she said.

I didn't know how I would ever fall asleep with the electricity crackling between us, but I nodded. "Yes, we should. Get some sleep."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Still recovering from her terrible illness, she was asleep within minutes.

I, however, laid awake for hours, determined to hold those moments in my heart forever.

 _Bailey_

Three days after Rivers had left with a small group of monks, I sat with the American men in the great hall, eating the bread and soup that they served for lunch every single day.

We were discussing American politics when Ramirez – who had been on guard – called through the walkie talkie. "I hate to do this, guys, but we have four vehicles approaching _fast_ , and they do _not_ seem like friendlies."

My heart stopped as the men at my table launched into action without a second thought.

Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me along, and I only realized that it was Steve when he pulled open the hatch to the safe room and pushed me towards the ladder. "Climb down and stay quiet. I'll come get you when it's safe." He pressed a gun into my hand, eyes blazing. "Remember how to use this?"

He'd shown me a few times, but I didn't know if I could actually _shoot_ someone. Still, I nodded, throat tight.

"Good. If you need to, use it. Shoot first, ask questions later."

"What's happening?" I finally managed to get out as the fear continued to tie my stomach into knots.

"They're coming." His eyes were full of anger and… regret? "Go. Now."

His tone left no room for argument, and I hurriedly scurried down the ladder.

The last thing that I saw before the darkness swallowed me was Steve's face.

Cold and alone, I sank down on the floor, gun held tight in my hands.

And I waited.


	7. An Awkward Dinner

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and welcome back to the newest chapter of my story! You've been the most amazing readers that I could ever ask for, and I appreciate each and every one of you more than you could possibly know!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **I am planning to update at least once a week (hopefully more, if I'm feeling especially motivated). Life does get in the way sometimes, but if it's been a week and you see that I still haven't updated, feel free to give me a shove until I get it done.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Seven: An Awkward Dinner**

 _Steve_

"Do you want to talk about whatever's bothering you?"

As my train of thought slammed to a stop, I glanced over at Danny, who was observing me in that unnerving, seeing-right-through-me kind of way. "Huh?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "You've been quite _off_ today."

" _Off_?"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Earlier today, during the foot chase, you didn't jump off of the building to run after our perp."

No, I hadn't. "It was a long way down. He was a car thief, not a murderer. Not worth a broken leg."

Danny pointed at me as if I'd made his point for him. Hell, I probably had. "Exactly. You _never_ think that logically during a foot chase. Your adrenaline spikes and turns you into Evil Knievel. Today, that didn't happen."

I turned into the parking lot at the Palace and asked, "You're upset that I was being cautious?"

"No, no," he said with a shake of his head. "I'm not _upset_ that you were being cautious. I'm _suspicious_ because you were being cautious. I think there's something on your mind."

Well… yeah. "Nah. Nothing. I'm fine."

"You can't lie to me, Steven."

Groaning in frustration, I whipped into the Camaro's parking spot and said, "I'm having dinner with Bailey and her family tonight."

There was silence from the passenger seat, a rare oddity.

"Steven."

Reluctantly, I looked over at my partner. His expression was hard to read – a mixture of surprise, sympathy, confusion… and about twenty other emotions. Not a good sign. "What?"

"Is that the best idea? For _anyone_?"

"Probably not." I sighed and ran a hand down my tired face. I'd hardly slept the night before, tossing and turning as I went over every possible scenario in my head. "But I already accepted. And, I don't know… maybe it'll be good for us. Maybe, if we can be friends, we can help each other move on."

"Yeah…" he said slowly, disbelieving. "That's not how that works. The person that you're trying to get over is the _worst_ person to help you get over them. Everyone knows this."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Danny."

"I'm sure it won't." He opened his door and slipped out of the car. "This woman… she gets to you in a way that Catherine never did. What is it about her, anyway?"

I locked the car and began to walk, trying to keep my expression neutral. "I… Bailey was the first woman that I ever opened up to. The first one I ever truly fell in love with."

"Ah. There _is_ something about the first."

Several of the officers greeted us as we passed them and I didn't speak again until we reached the stairs leading up to HQ. "Bailey and I have been over a long time. And what happened with us… it can't be repaired."

Unbidden, the images flew through my mind. The blood. Bailey lying on the ground in our bedroom. Her in the hospital bed, pale and broken. Me, helpless to do anything. I hadn't been there when she needed me. That fact would never change. And it had been enough to tear our marriage apart.

As we reached the landing, Danny grabbed my arm, expression serious and understanding. "Time can heal more than you think. Just be wary, okay? And I'm always around if you want to talk about it."

That wasn't likely to happen. "I know."

We stepped into HQ and listened to the rest of the team talk about the leads that they had found, but half of my mind was in the past.

Bailey and I had been amazing together; of that, there was absolutely no doubt.

But there was always at least one thing that could rip any two people – no matter how perfect for each other – apart.

I promised myself that I would keep that in mind as Bailey and I formed whatever kind of friendship would work for us. I knew that we could be amazing friends, because we had done it before. But a romantic relationship would never work.

"Steve?" Kono asked. "Are you on board with the plan?"

I hadn't even heard the plan, to be honest. But, I nodded. "Sounds good."

"Great." She smiled. "Chin and I will get started, then."

As they moved off, Danny edged closer to me and whispered, "Nice save, Commander."

I elbowed him as I moved for my office.

 _Bailey_

"Hey."

I glanced up from the pot of sauce, surprised to see Jacob standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Earlier in the day, he'd called to say that he didn't know if he would be able to make it to dinner that evening. He'd cited needing some extra practice on base, but I knew that he just wanted to avoid Steve.

"Hi," I responded, and kept my expression neutral. "I thought you weren't going to be able to make it to dinner?"

He stepped forward and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I've been a little immature about the whole thing."

 _You think_? "That's a possibility."

The corner of his mouth hitched up in a small smile. "You can just tell me that you think I've been a dick."

"I would, but you know that I don't like to use that kind of language." Especially with young, impressionable children in the house.

"Sorry." He stopped once he'd reached me and flashed me a real smile. "Can we start over on this?"

"You know that I don't believe in _starting over_." I went back to stirring the sauce. "Life isn't a video game. But I know what you're trying to say."

"Good, because I'm terrible with words."

"Yes, I know." I couldn't help but smile as I remembered his proposal. He'd forgotten the speech that he'd memorized and had finally just asked me outright if I would marry him. Later, he'd let me read the actual speech.

"Do you need any help?"

I didn't, really, but I accepted anyway. "You can start on the lettuce for the salad. It's already washed."

"Okay." He moved to do as I'd asked, and we worked in relative silence for the next fifteen minutes.

"Done with the lettuce," he finally said. "Do you want me to do the tomatoes, too?"

A glance at the clock told me that it would be an hour before Steve arrived, assuming that he would be a bit early. "You can go ahead and chop them, but don't put them in with the lettuce yet."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

I rolled my eyes. It was so like him to be stubborn and childish about something and then turn around and act playful. Still, I felt myself smile.

Forty minutes later, we were mostly done with dinner. The salad was chilling, the sauce was simmering, the pasta was boiling, and the bread was baking in the oven.

"Did you do a dessert?" Jacob asked me as he set the table.

"Chocolate fudge cake is in the fridge." I'd done it the evening before to give it plenty of time to chill. "You can pick out a bottle of wine, though."

"Sure. Red or white?"

"Red." Steve would likely have a beer, but I definitely needed some wine to get through the evening.

 _Why did I ever invite Steve over for dinner in the first place? Why would I think that would be a good idea?_

Too late to back out now, though. Best to just grin and bear it, and then never let it happen again.

Jacob set the bottle of wine on the table and then kissed my cheek as he passed me. "I'm going to go and make sure that the kids are ready and haven't made a big mess up there."

"Sounds good."

Once he was gone, I stirred the sauce and took a few deep breaths. I spoke daily with patients about how to decrease stress and methods to handle anxiety when it reared its ugly head. Why couldn't I practice what I preached?

I'd just taken the bread out of the oven when the doorbell rang, sending a pleasant, high-pitched chime throughout the house.

 _Go time_.

Jacob came down the stairs, the kids on his heels, as I exited the kitchen.

"Slice the bread and drain the pasta, please?" I asked, and he nodded and headed that way.

Ethan and Sarah followed me, giggling as they danced around me and chattered about the visitor. They loved having guests in our home.

Steve waited patiently on the other side of the door, hands in the pockets of his khakis. The blue button-up shirt that he wore brought out some blueish flecks in his green eyes. His dark brown hair was styled a bit more than usual, and the smile that he wore made my heart skip a beat for reasons that I preferred not to ponder.

Before I could ask him to come in, my daughter skipped around me and smiled widely at him. "Hi! I'm Sarah!"

As if he spoke to little children every day, he knelt down and said, "Hi, Sarah. It's so nice to meet you. I'm Steve."

Sarah reached back and grabbed Ethan's hand, pulling him forward. "This is my brother, Ethan. He's pretty cool sometimes."

Steve laughed and shook Ethan's hand. "Nice to meet you, Ethan."

"Come inside," I invited, gently nudging my kids out of the way so that he could step into our house. "Dinner's just finished, so we should be ready to eat. Kids, go wash your hands."

"Yes, ma'am!" They said in unison before racing down the hall.

" _Without_ splashing each other, please!" I called after them, but I received no response.

Steve looked around the foyer and nodded his approval. "Nice house."

"It was a lucky find." Suddenly self-conscious, I combed some stray strands of hair down with my fingers. Some women had hair that would lay perfectly flat. I was _not_ one of those women, much to my dismay. I probably looked like a wreck after my marathon cooking.

After he'd finished his quick survey, he smiled pleasantly at me. "Is Jacob here?"

"He is." I waved for him to follow me. "In the kitchen."

Jacob had just finished pouring the sauce into a serving bowl when we entered, and his expression was unreadable, a SEAL skill that I'd always detested as a mental health professional.

"Jacob," I said. "Steve's here."

My husband lifted his head and I could tell that his smile was forced, but I appreciated his efforts, nonetheless. "Commander."

Steve quickly waved that away. "No, no. No Commander tonight. Just Steve."

Jacob nodded curtly. "Well, can I offer you a beer, Steve?"

"I'd love one."

The kids ran into the room, passing through to the dining room, and Jacob handed Steve one of his beers before turning to me. "Bailey?"

"I'll stick with the wine." I'd never been much of a beer drinker. Wasn't crazy about the smell, nor the taste.

"Of course." He withdrew a beer for himself and then closed the refrigerator door. "Shall we?"

Jacob and I carried the last few things to the table and then sat down.

"Guests first," I reprimanded Ethan as he reached for a piece of garlic bread.

He quickly withdrew his hand and gave me a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

Steve laughed and began to fill his plate. "I can understand your eagerness. Everything smells amazing."

"Let's hope it _tastes_ amazing," I responded.

Food was passed around, plates were filled, and then Sarah got the conversation flowing with a complaint about her homework. Thank goodness for that, though, because my mind had drawn a blank when I'd tried to come up with something to say.

Ethan finally jumped in and asked Steve what he did for a living. Steve responded, "I head up the governor's task force. Have you heard of Five-O?"

"Not really." Ethan shook his head.

"We're like police officers," Steve explained. "Except we aren't required to wait around for search warrants and things like that, so we can get things done a lot faster."

"Oh." Ethan's eyes lit up. "Sounds cool."

"It is. It's very cool."

I decided to finally contribute something to the conversation. "But before he was a member of Five-O, he was a SEAL."

Sarah gasped. "Like Daddy?"

Jacob nodded. "Like me."

"Were you a SEAL here in Hawaii like Daddy is now?" Sarah asked him.

Steve shook his head. "I was a SEAL in Virginia."

"We were in California, but I think Mommy and Daddy used to live in Virginia," Sarah said, thinking very hard. She looked at me. "Right?"

I cleared my throat. "Yes, sweetie. When Daddy and I first got married, we lived in Virginia." Thankfully, we'd been able to move away from there pretty quickly.

"When did you meet Daddy?" Ethan asked Steve, and all of the adults at the table stiffened.

Ethan was only six, and Sarah was only a year behind him. Jacob and I hadn't decided when – if ever – we were going to tell them that I had been married before. I mean, we had assumed that we would talk about it someday, but I'd thought that was _years_ down the line.

Steve hesitantly said, "I met him about nine years ago."

"Did you two work together?" was the follow-up question.

Jacob handled that one. "We've actually never been on an op together."

"Then how did you meet?"

My children and their curiosity. Thankfully, Jacob was able to distract them by telling them that I had made their favorite chocolate cake for dessert. They took to the subject change eagerly, and I sliced and served the cake, happy to be away from the previous topic.

"Coffee?" I asked Steve.

"Please," he answered me around a mouthful of cake.

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full," Sarah told him, ever the little mother. She frequently reprimanded Ethan for small things that he did. I constantly had to tell her that it wasn't her job to boss him.

"And _you_ ," I said with a pointed look. "Shouldn't talk to adults that way."

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"It's all right," Steve laughed. "You are _absolutely_ right that I shouldn't talk with my mouth full. Your mother always said I was worse than a wild animal."

The kids laughed, but all that I could think was: _That wasn't all bad…_

A blush spread over my cheeks as Jacob entered the dining room, two mugs of coffee in his hands. "Steve, do you take anything in yours?"

"Butter," Steve and I said at exactly the same time.

My children began to talk about how disgusting that was and I decided to keep my mouth shut for the next little bit. To distract myself, I set about carrying away all of the dirty plates and serving bowls and platters while everyone else feasted on cake.

Half an hour later, I shooed the kids upstairs to take a bath before bed. They whined and complained that they wanted to spend some more time with Steve, but Jacob sternly told them that was out of the question and they finally agreed. He went up with them, just to make sure that they hustled.

"Thank you for inviting me," Steve said as I walked him towards the front door. "I really enjoyed it."

"Don't sound so surprised."

He laughed. "I just… I thought it might be a little…"

"Awkward?"

Smiling, he nodded. "Well… yeah. And I guess it was, at first. But everything turned out well. I think this friends thing might actually work out."

"I would concur."

"I'm glad." Hand on the doorknob, he lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "They don't know that you were married before?"

I shifted my weight nervously, fully aware that I was doing it. "No, not quite yet. Someday, but… not now."

He nodded his understanding. "Someday, then. Good night, Bailey."

"Good night, Steve."

I watched him head to his truck and then locked myself inside my house, breathing a sigh of relief.

An hour later, once everything was clean downstairs, I went up to our bedroom and found Jacob sitting up in bed, watching some movie trailer on his phone.

He didn't bother looking up from the screen. "That went well."

I moved for the bathroom. "You sound disappointed."

"No, not really."

He was, but I decided not to pursue it. I'd been overthinking enough for the night.


	8. The Uncertainty of Tomorrows

**...**

 **Hello, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of my story. I'm so glad that you're enjoying it and have decided to continue reading. All of the support that I've received so far has been nothing short of amazing. Thank you all so much.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Eight: The Uncertainty of Tomorrows**

 **Twelve Years Ago**

 _Steve_

The men in the open-top SUVs didn't even try to negotiate. They just climbed out, guns at the ready, and started shooting.

Rivers was still gone, which only left four of us against the twenty plus men.

"How many grenades do you have?" LT shouted at me after he'd sent Ramirez to make sure that all of the monks were taking cover. It wasn't likely that these men would go after them, but we didn't need them getting hit by a stray bullet for sheltering us.

After getting off a spot-on shot, I checked quickly. "Three!"

"I've got two!" Carson yelled from beside me. "Want us to use them?"

"You'll have to wait until they get a little closer!" LT reloaded and rose quickly to let off a few shots. The monastery hadn't been built for a gunfight… when we wanted to take a shot, we had to rise up and leave ourselves exposed while we pulled the trigger. Not ideal.

Carson rose up to take a few shots of his own, and then crouched back down. "I think I got one!"

"Great, that's two down out of twenty," I ground out and took a breath before I got off some shots of my own. The gunfire was deafening, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins had me wired. I was scared for my life, certainly, but I was far more terrified of what would happen to Bailey if these men discovered her.

"One grenade each!" LT ordered us as he pulled one out of his vest. "On my count!"

Carson and I briefly set our guns aside to prepare.

"One. Two. Three!"

We all pulled the pins and then launched the grenades, praying that they would do their job. Sure enough, there were grunts and screams of pain, and the gunfire lessened.

"We did _some_ damage." Carson quickly peeked over the wall, but dropped back down as bullets whizzed past his head. "Not enough."

"Sounds like I missed the best part of the party." Ramirez was suddenly there, dark eyes blazing as he pulled a grenade of his own out and announced, "Better late than never!"

He launched it over the wall and there were more screams following the explosion.

"The monks have taken cover where they can," he told LT and then lifted his gun. "Where do you want me?"

"You and I will move that way," LT responded, pointing down the wall. "Carson and McGarrett, hold things up on this end."

Carson and I nodded and watched them move in a low crouch, then we took up our own positions, ready to fire when we felt like we had a chance.

"This is a _really_ bad time for our sniper to be gone," Carson announced as he checked how many bullets he had in his current clip. "I'm almost out, and I only have two more clips."

I checked and found myself in a comparable position. "Me, too."

He huffed out a growl. "Great. Let's make 'em count."

What felt like hours later, Carson and I were down to maybe ten bullets between the two of us. The other side was still firing.

"LT," Carson called through our comms. "Steve and I are almost out!"

"Us, too," LT responded, much more calmly than I likely would have under the circumstances. "Ramirez just checked and we've still got five, maybe six tangos firing at us."

"This wall won't let us take exact shots," Carson complained.

"And we're out of grenades," I added.

"We have _one_ left," LT said. "We need to save it. How many bullets in your sidearms?"

Carson checked his as I sat by guiltily. Ramirez and Carson gave their answers, and then there was a pause as they waited for mine.

"I don't have my sidearm," I confessed.

"You _left_ it?!" Carson looked at me as if I'd gone mental.

"No!" My face flamed slightly, and I was grateful that I could use the adrenaline as an excuse. "I gave it to Bailey so that she could defend herself if someone got through and found her."

"Good thinking, Steve." LT gestured to Carson. "Move on down and try to take a shot from there. There should be a tango to your eleven. There."

But just as Carson rose to take his shot, there came a sound that I recognized.

A helo.

"If that's not for us, we're screwed!" Ramirez said and cursed loudly. "Please, _please_ let it be for us. We've been through enough hell!"

Every one of us held our breath, waiting.

There were gunshots.

Screaming.

Silence.

And then, the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. Through the helo's speakers came a male voice. "This is Delta Zero-Four-Eight. You're going home, boys."

Ramirez cheered rather loudly, and Carson hugged me tightly, a relieved laugh escaping as he pounded my back. "We're out of here!"

"Bailey!" I realized and pulled away from him, sprinting towards the safe room. Of course, I was happy to be going home, but I was even happier that Bailey would have access to the proper medical care and would be far away from this country that was so torturous to her.

As I approached, I slowed my steps and called out so that she could hear me. "Bailey, it's okay! Rivers got the message out in time and there's a helo waiting to take us out of here!"

From below me, I heard the lock flip, and then Bailey threw back the door and sprinted up into my arms, tears in her eyes. "Is it really over?" she asked me, so much hope in her quivering voice.

I held her close and breathed in the lavender scent of her hair. "It's all over, sweetheart. You're safe. We're safe."

She pulled away and when I saw that she was crying, I instinctively reached up to wipe the tears away. With a shaky smile, she loosely grabbed my wrists and her voice cracked when she said, " _Safe_."

"Safe," I agreed, suddenly painfully aware of how very close we were to each other. Indeed, you likely couldn't have fit a notebook between us. We were sharing the very air that we were breathing.

And then, suddenly, we weren't sharing it anymore. Instead, we were breathing as one, our lips locked together in a kiss that conveyed far more than a simple touching of lips should. Joy, gratefulness, hope, passion, relief, want, need… it all tangled together and threatened to consume us where we stood.

The cheerful voices of my fellow SEALs carried down the hall and Bailey and I broke apart as though we'd been burned with a hot poker. Her eyes were wide, cheeks pink, and she quickly turned away as I fought to control my own expression.

"Pack up what few things you have here," LT told Bailey and me as he caught sight of us. "Wheels up in no less than five."

"Got it." I said and turned back to say something – _anything_ – to Bailey, but she had already disappeared into her small room.

The next few minutes were a blur of packing up, telling the monks goodbye and thanking them for their hospitality, and then loading up into the helo, surrounded by a team of SEALs, a few of whom I recognized.

I found myself seated next to Bailey – shoulder to shoulder, actually – but the helo was too loud for any kind of meaningful conversation, so I just smiled at her and squeezed her hand quickly to reassure her that everything was fine. She'd told me back in the cave that she had always hated flying, so I knew that she was nervous about being in the air.

A little over an hour later, we landed at a base and were quickly shuffled into the medical station. Bailey was taken back into a private room while my team and I were assessed by a couple of doctors that patched up cuts and scrapes, gave us some food and water, and told us that a plane would be along shortly to take us to a base in Italy before we'd be shipped back to Virginia.

"What about her?" I asked, pointing to the room where they'd taken Bailey.

The doctor that was re-checking my vitals shrugged. "She might be on your flight, or she might not. They're checking to make sure all of the infection is gone and that her injuries aren't emergent."

I wanted to ask him for more information, but I knew that he wasn't likely to give it to me, as I wasn't family. Carson gave me a knowing look, but thankfully didn't say anything in front of the other guys, who were happily eating and chatting about what to do when we finally made it home.

Bailey joined us nearly half an hour later, smiling as she told us that she had an almost entirely clean bill of health. "All that mountain air," she joked, and we all laughed and invited her to join us. She sat between Carson and Rivers, which stung, but I was happy that she filled her plate with plenty of food.

It was two hours later, on the flight to Italy, that I sat down beside her. She continued to stare out the window, so I cleared my throat and then murmured, "You can't pretend that it never happened, you know."

"I know." A rueful smile twisted her bow lips. "I _am_ a psychiatrist, after all, and that would be delusional."

"So… what now?"

When she looked at me, her blue eyes were glowing with hope. " _You_ tell _me_ , Commander."

Pleasantly surprised, I felt myself smile and relax into my seat. "Well, I say that this thing between us definitely warrants further investigation."

"You'd better get down to it, then," she teased me with a smile, nodding her head at my team, who sat more towards the front of the small plane. We were perfectly shielded from their view, so long as we stayed slouched the way that we were. "I promise to be an entirely cooperative witness."

"Excellent." And then I pulled her close and we explored the possibilities.

Nearly two weeks later, I walked through Walter Reed hospital, a small duffel bag slung over my shoulder. We'd all been debriefed, and the rest of my team had dispersed, eager for some time off after that crazy op. I would have been doing the same, had Bailey not ended up needing to stay at Walter Reed for a bit after her pneumonia had resurged while in Italy.

But, she was finally getting to leave, and I had promised her that I would be there when she was discharged.

I found her in her room of the last several weeks, watching some nonsense on the television, eyes glazed over. Laughing, I tossed the duffel onto the bed and reached up to turn the TV off. "Why are you watching that junk?"

She smiled at me, cheeks pinkening, and I was filled with warmth. "What else was I supposed to do while you fetched my clothes?"

"And your makeup," I reminded her. "Heaven forbid you leave the hospital without any makeup on." Personally, I thought that she looked far better without it, but she disagreed, as most women did.

After digging through the duffel to make sure that I'd grabbed all of the correct items, she smiled in approval and moved for the bathroom. "I'm going to get ready. Be out in a few."

"Okay." I kissed her quickly before she disappeared, and then I entertained myself by making sure that she had packed everything that she'd had me bring to the hospital for her.

She came out and held out her arms. "How do I look?" Her hair was up in a messy bun, her makeup brushed on with a light hand. She was dressed in jeans and a simple black and white tee, along with a pair of black shoes.

"Amazing." And I meant it. She was the most amazing woman that I'd ever met, in more than just her physical beauty. She was also incredibly strong, as evidenced by everything that she'd been forced to go through. Her intelligence was nearly off of the charts compared to mine. She had a wonderful sense of humor. Just… amazing.

She blushed ever so slightly and moved for the door. "Let's get out of here. They signed my discharge papers fifteen minutes ago and I'm beyond ready to get out of here."

"Me too," I agreed. I'd spent nearly all of my free time in her hospital room and, though I very much enjoyed spending time with her, I was ready to do it somewhere else. "Did you take a dinner tray, or do you want to stop somewhere before we get to your apartment?"

"I refused a dinner tray because I assumed we'd go eat somewhere." She waved at her favorite nurse as we walked to the elevator. "Build up energy."

Confused, I pressed the elevator button and leaned my shoulder against the wall, smiling. "Build up energy for what?"

She shrugged, but the heat in her eyes told me exactly what she wanted the energy for. "Oh, you know… anything I might need it for."

"Yeah?" Of course, we had kissed. Of course, we had touched. But the idea of going even further – of being so completely _one_ with her – kicked my adrenaline to an all-time high. It was all I could do not to kiss her with all of the passion in my body right then and there. _Calm down_. "That makes sense. Where do you want to eat?"

Bailey decided on pizza for dinner, as she'd had to go without it for far too long. I was pleased to find that we shared the same favorite pizza place, and we liked the same kind of pizza. Conversation flowed effortlessly as we ate, as it always did between us. I wanted to know everything about her, and she treated me much the same way.

Once we'd finished dinner and I had paid for our food, we went out to my truck and I drove her to her apartment. "It's crazy," she said as we walked up the stairs. " _You_ 've been to my apartment so many times since we've been back and I haven't even been back once."

"It's very… _plain_ ," I told her. "I thought maybe I'd get to see some baby pictures or something."

She laughed and fit her key into the lock. "I moved into this apartment two months before I ended up heading out to Nepal. There wasn't a lot of time to personalize the space. But I have a few more weeks off before I have to go back to work. Maybe I'll use some of that time to decorate."

As she pushed the door open, I pressed close to her and whispered, "I'd rather you spend all of your free time with me."

"No way," she teased as she turned around and smiled at me. "We have to give other guys a chance, don't you think."

I pushed the door shut behind me and raced for her. "Not a chance."

Squealing, she laughed and jumped away from me, racing through her apartment. I chased her all around, and then finally caught her and easily threw her over my shoulder and marched towards the bedroom, depositing her onto her bed.

Still laughing, she pulled me down on top of her. "This is quite different from the stuffy cave, isn't it?"

I leaned in close to nuzzle her neck. "A lot more privacy, for sure."

"We should put it to good use." All traces of laughter were gone. She was so very serious as she trailed one finger down my cheek, along my neck and collarbone.

"Just the invitation I was looking for," I murmured and pressed my lips to hers. She responded in kind, eager. I could feel her quivering in excitement beneath me, and my pulse kicked up a notch. I was just as excited as she was.

As the clothes came off one layer at a time, our hands roamed and explored leisurely. Unlike our time in Nepal, we had all of the time in the world to just _be_ together. I felt like I had waited forever for this very moment.

Our joining was urgent, but not rushed. We took plenty of time exploring each other's bodies, and when it was over, we held each other and talked about this and that until we finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

Two hours later, a terrified scream ripped through the silence in the apartment.

Bailey's nightmares had begun.


	9. Just Friends

… **..**

 **Hey, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter and I am SO sorry about the delay in posting! My computer went down while I was on vacation and my external drive wasn't with me, so there was no chance of uploading, even if I had gotten a new computer on vacation. I'm happy to say that I now have a brand new laptop, and all of my files have been recovered. I plan to post two chapters this week, at the very least. Thanks for your patience, and for those of you that checked up on me to make sure that I was okay.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Nine: Just Friends**

 _Steve_

"His medical records indicate that he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder two months ago," Chin informed us as he pulled said medical records up onto the screen to show us. "The disorder explains him bouncing from job to job, his three divorces, and the reckless driving."

"But it doesn't explain the murder," Kono said. "Bipolar people aren't generally violent, are they?"

"Steve has a source he can tap to figure that out."

My head snapped up at Danny's casual statement. "What?"

His smug smile stared back at me. "Your doctor friend. She's a psychiatrist, right? I'm sure she knows all about this bipolar disorder. You can even take along his medical records and she can offer up a second opinion."

"Okay, maybe I'm missing something here." Lou looked between me and Danny, his expression full of curiosity. "Anyone care to fill me in?"

"I'm curious myself." Chin smiled.

Danny shrugged and gestured to me, even though he was the one that had opened his big, dumb mouth. It was my story to tell, and I knew that he wouldn't say anything about it without my express permission. I could have just lied and said that Bailey and I had crossed paths only recently, but they'd likely find out the truth eventually. Best to just get it all out of the way now.

"My ex-wife is a military psychiatrist, and she was just recently stationed in Hawaii."

Their reactions would have been humorous, had the situation not been a soul-bearing moment for me. Kono gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth so that all that I could see of her face was her wide eyes. Chin reeled back as if I'd punched him directly in the face. Lou's head snapped in my direction and he said, "Say what, now?"

Danny finished chuckling and said, "No, you heard right. I couldn't believe it either, at first, but I met her and she's a very nice lady."

"You were _married_?" Chin was shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "How did we not know this?"

Lou scoffed. "I see what _we_ mean to _you_."

I clasped my hands together and forced myself to take a calming breath. "It was a long time ago. I've tried to move on and put the whole thing behind me. I didn't realize that she was on the island until that case with the PTSD soldier. She was the psychiatrist that we talked to at the base."

"Don't bother asking him why they got divorced; he won't spill."

"Can we move on now?" I pointed to the info on the screen. "We have a murderer on the loose."

"I think that all depends on you, babe." Danny was clearly having far too much fun with this. "Are you going to tap your source?" After a glance at his watch, he said, "She should be finishing up with patients."

"If it'll get you off my back, sure." I took out my cell phone and gave orders for the rest of them to continue digging into his background. Then, I headed out the doors of headquarters and dialed Bailey.

She answered on the fourth ring, sounding slightly surprised. "Steve?"

Trying to ignore the warm feeling in my chest at her voice, I said, "Yeah, it's me. I'm, uh… I'm working a case and it has a psychological component. I was wondering if we could meet up; I could use your expertise."

"What kind of psychological component?"

"Thirty-six-year-old male murdered his wife and child." It took great effort to banish the crime scene images from my mind. "We just found out that he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder a couple of months ago."

Bailey blew out a long breath and then sighed. "Yeah, okay. Where should I meet you?"

"That depends on where you are."

"I just got into my car to head home." A car door slammed on her end, confirming.

"I can meet you near your house." I pushed open the doors of the palace and thought for a moment. "Are you in the mood for coffee?"

Stupid question – Bailey was _always_ in the mood for coffee. "Of course. And I know exactly which place you're thinking of. Their vanilla iced coffee is to _die_ for."

A smile lifted the corners of my mouth. "With a shot of espresso and three extra pumps?"

There was a smile in her voice. "It's like you know me."

 _I used to_. "See you in half an hour."

"See you then."

 _Bailey_

When I arrived at the coffeeshop, I took a moment to ensure that my makeup was intact, and that my wavy hair wasn't too crazy. "Not because I hope that I look hot for some other guy," I murmured to myself when guilt began to nag. "Just because I don't want to look terrible out in public."

Before I could allow myself to poke holes in my own story, I got out of the car, black skirt swirling around my ankles. Steve's blue truck was parked a few spots down, so he was likely already inside.

Sure enough, I saw him as soon as I stepped through the door. He was at the counter, taking two drinks from the barista, who was smiling flirtatiously at him. And who could blame her? The blue, short-sleeved button-up shirt that he wore was pulled taut against his broad shoulders and muscled chest. His neatly-trimmed but always slightly messy hair was windswept, like the photos where the models are standing in front of a fan. And his eyes… I knew that his eyes made up for the fact that he was wearing khaki cargo pants and boots (which he could actually pull off).

Steve turned slightly and smiled when he saw me, raising one of the cups in greeting. "You made it."

I hoped that I didn't look like I'd just been ogling him. "I did."

He swept his hand over the nearly empty coffeeshop. "Take your pick."

After a moment's deliberation, I chose the table in the far corner, as far away from everyone else as we could possibly get. Knowing that Steve would want to sit with his back against the wall and with a clear sight to the door, I sat down near the window.

He put my drink down in front of me and then sat, holding his own coffee. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. Happy to help." I busied myself putting the straw into my drink. "And you know that I never turn down free coffee."

"Glad to know that some things never change." His tone carried something unreadable in it, but he quickly changed the subject. "So, this morning HPD responded to a domestic disturbance call. The neighbor reported hearing screaming, shouting, and sounds like someone was throwing heavy objects against walls. When the police got there, no one answered the door. They entered and found the bodies of a thirty-four-year-old woman and her two-year-old son."

I closed my eyes briefly against the awfulness. I had heard of such things happening, but it never got any easier to hear. The world could be a truly terrible and cruel place, sometimes. "The murderer was nowhere to be found, I assume?"

Steve shook his head, and I could tell that the fact irked him. "The neighbor said that he spotted him running out the back door, covered in blood. And only two minutes before HPD arrived. We have a BOLO out, but nothing so far. I was wondering if you might have any insight. I mean, I know that you don't know him personally, but any insight into his condition could be helpful."

"Do you know if he's bipolar one or two?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Steve took out his cell phone and began to fiddle with it. "I'm pulling up the files that his psychiatrist and therapist sent over. Here you go."

I sipped on my iced coffee as I read over the charts and notes. Unable to help it, I heard myself repeating aloud the most important information. "Type one… Vraylar… psychotic features… Ativan… delusions… suspected rapid cycling…"

When I'd been quiet for a while, Steve gently asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorry." I finished reading and then slid his phone over to him. "He's textbook bipolar one. How much do you know about the disorder?"

"The bare minimum," he answered with a guilty smile. "No offense, but I didn't pick up a whole lot when we were married, and I haven't had a reason to learn since."

"Not surprising. _Bipolar_ means majorly up, and then majorly down. It becomes a disorder when it dramatically and negatively impacts your life. Take your suspect, for example. Three divorces, likely because his bipolar makes him difficult to live with. He's jumped from job to job – either because he got fired or his depression or mania made him quit. Bipolar one means that the severity of his symptoms is more dramatic than someone with bipolar two."

"The briefest summary possible?" Steve guessed with a knowing smile.

I managed a smile back. "Yeah. I could spend all day telling you about bipolar disorder. There's a lot to it. His psychiatrist noted that he _does_ have psychotic features – which means that he hallucinates. The therapist wrote that his hallucinations were auditory, but not visual."

"Hallucinations are obviously not good."

"They're not," I agreed. " _But_ , they're not awful, so long as the person hallucinating recognizes it for what it is. It sounds like he _did_ realize that he was hallucinating _at first_ , but then became deluded and started to think that the voices were real. He was on Ativan for anxiety, in addition to the Vraylar, so I'm thinking that things were getting pretty bad. If he suddenly stopped his medication… it's entirely plausible that he was overwhelmed by the hallucinations."

"There was a woman…" Steve said slowly, thinking hard. "In… _Texas_ , maybe? She drowned her kids in the bathtub. I think they said she had postpartum depression or something?"

"Postpartum _psychosis_ ," I gently corrected and swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth.

Steve's hand came down on mine and regret had tightened the lines in his face. "I'm sorry, Bay. That's not a good topic."

"No, it's not."

He cleared his throat and withdrew his hand. "So… any tips on how to bring this guy in alive?"

Thankful to have something else to think about, I began to absentmindedly stir the ice in my drink. "If his psychosis is still going strong when you find him, I think that the best thing that you can do is play along."

He seemed surprised. "Pretend to hear whatever he's hearing?"

"Not necessarily. Just tell him that you believe him. Let him do most of the talking and then just agree with him. He might say something crazy like… _The aliens told me that I had to kill them because they were actually demons that had taken over my family_. Just agree with that and tell him that you understand why he had to do it. Hopefully, you can get him to lower his weapon long enough for someone to knock him out."

"It just kills me that he'll get off with the insanity defense."

"Sometimes, it's legitimate."

"Sometimes it's not."

I opened my mouth to further make my case, but then closed it again. He'd come upon a horrible scene that morning, and he was speaking mostly out of anger and revulsion. It wasn't the time to point out that sometimes, people did go a little bit insane. "Sometimes it's not," I agreed, because that was true.

"You're placating me."

Laughing, I said, "Maybe a little."

"I'll take it."

I finished off my drink and pushed the empty cup away. "Was I helpful?"

"Immensely." And I could tell that he meant it. "What's your plan for the rest of the evening?"

"Jacob texted earlier and said that he was planning to take Ethan and Sarah to the beach, so I'll probably go home to an empty house. My kids _love_ the beach."

He smiled teasingly. "Obviously not something they got from their mother."

"No, definitely not." I laughed. "I think they're more like their dad. Do you have any big plans, aside from saving the world?"

"Hunting him down could take up the entire night." He ran one hand through his hair, and without wanting to, I remembered how it had felt beneath my fingers. Soft and thick.

"Build in some time for rest somewhere. Sleep is important." It sounded lame, even to my own ears. Why did Steve McGarrett make me feel like such an idiot?

"Tell that to the criminals. If they would sleep every now and then, maybe I would, too."

"How did you end up deciding that this was what you wanted to do with your life, anyway?"

So, he told me the whole story. By the time that he had finished, my heart was heavy. Steve had – unfortunately – had more than his fair share of tragedy and heartbreak. It said a lot about him that instead of curling up in a ball and cursing at the sky, he had dedicated his life to helping as many people as he possibly could.

As evidenced by the morning's events, he saw the very worst of what humanity had to offer. It would have been enough to make lesser men shake their heads in disgust and walk away, but not Steve McGarrett. He showed up every day and gave one hundred percent of himself to see justice served. He was there for those that needed him.

And yet…

 _No._ I sternly steered my thoughts away from that tragedy. _It was ten years ago. It's time to let it go and move on._

Unfortunately, that was much easier said than done.

"You okay?"

At Steve's soft question, I forced myself to focus. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The look that he gave me made me think that he knew exactly where my mind had been. "Are you sure?"

"I'm… reminiscing," I admitted and stared down into my empty cup. "About things that I'd really rather not think about. So, if you could distract me… well… that would be most welcome."

Pain flashed in his eyes and his voice was gruff. "I'd love to, Bailey, but…" He heaved a frustrated sigh. "What would I distract you with? The only things that I have to offer are part of a past that's painful for the both of us. I could talk about our mutual friends, but that brings back memories. I could ask if you ever got over your irrational fear of your food touching, but that just proves that we have a past. Everything is…" He seemed to be searching for the word.

"Connected?" I asked him softly.

He nodded. "Connected. And… I don't want to hurt you. At least, not more than I already have." He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on the table as he pinned me with an intense look. "Would you tell me if I was hurting you?"

 _This hurts_ , I wanted to tell him. _Being close to you like this with so much history between us hurts_.

Instead, I nodded. "I would. Why don't we just… start over?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I thought that life wasn't a video game and you can't just reset when you're in last place?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You can't. But we're starting fresh. We're just two friends meeting for coffee."

"And psychological evaluations," he reminded me, slightly teasing, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a small smile.

"And psychological evaluations," I agreed, also smiling.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Just friends. Meeting for coffee. Okay… I can do that."

"Great." I stood, grabbing my cup. "But right now, you have a murderer to catch, so we're going to have to do this another time."

Also standing, he nodded. "Name the time and place, and I'll be there. But you're paying next time. These coffees were expensive."

Laughing, I followed him to the door. "As long as you don't pick some steakhouse when it's my turn to pay."

"She's onto my schemes," he whispered loudly.

I laughed and pitched my empty cup. "Good luck with your case. Call me if you need anything."

He followed me out the door, breath fanning against the back of my neck. "I _may_ call you, even if I don't."

I spent the whole drive home trying to ignore the flutter his words had incited.


	10. Will You?

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of my second Hawaii Five-O fic! If you haven't already, please check out** _ **Boundless as the Sea**_ **, my first story. If you're enjoying this one, I think that you'll enjoy that one as well.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone that has read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and private messaged. I really appreciate each and every one of you!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Ten: Will You…?**

 **Twelve Years Ago**

 _Bailey_

I woke up covered in sweat, a scream scratching my throat on its way out. Arms were around me in an instant and I thrashed against their hold, terrified of what they would do to me. And then a deep male voice at my ear… a familiar voice…

" _Bailey_!" Steve pleaded, holding fast. "Bailey, wake up! It's just a dream. You're okay; you're safe."

The room came into focus then. The green numbers of the digital alarm clock read 3:41. In their dim light, I could just barely make out the book on the nightstand – a book that had been recommended to me by a colleague. I was halfway finished with it. That scent was the carpet powder that I'd used before vacuuming. What Steve was saying to me was true: I was okay; I was safe.

"Just a dream," I sighed and felt all of the tension leave my body at once, leaving me exhausted. "Just a dream."

As I moved into a sitting position, Steve sat up beside me and sighed. "Bailey, why don't you just go and get evaluated?"

My muscles tensed. It was a conversation that he'd tried to start with me several times, and I was always on edge, wondering when he was going to bring it up again. "I don't need to be evaluated."

"You have PTSD."

I'd said those exact words to numerous patients. And I responded exactly how the majority of them did. "No, I don't."

He ticked the symptoms off on his fingers, one by one. "Hypervigilance, social isolation, agitation, severe anxiety, mistrust, insomnia, and nightmares. And those are just the things that I've _noticed_. You might also be experiencing a loss of interest in formerly pleasurable activities, guilt, and loneliness."

My heart began to pound as tears stabbed at my eyes. "Someone's been doing some research."

Steve nodded. "I have. Denying that you have a problem is also an indicator."

"I don't need to be evaluated."

"You have seven – possibly more – symptoms of a disorder, and you don't want any help?" Steve was incredulous. "I could maybe expect that kind of response from a soldier, but you deal with this kind of stuff every single day on the job. How can you just brush it off knowing what it can do to people?"

"I don't want to talk about this." I stood up and moved around the bed, heading for the door. "Are you hungry?"

Steve followed behind, flipping on lights as he went. " _No_ , Bay, I'm not hungry. It's _four in the morning_."

"Pancakes," I decided as I made it to the kitchen and flicked on the light. "I'm going to make some pancakes. Do we have any strawberries?"

I went to open the fridge, but Steve slapped his hand down on it and pushed it closed again. "Forget the damn strawberries, Bailey. This is serious."

Though I knew that Steve was easily three times stronger than me, I tried to open the door. Unsurprisingly, it wouldn't budge.

"Bailey."

Still, I tried. If I could just get the door open and find some strawberries, then I could make some pancakes and everything would be okay.

 _Delusional thinking_.

The sobs escaped before I even felt them, and I fell to the floor. Rather, I _would_ have fallen to the floor if Steve's SEAL reflexes weren't so quick. Instead, he scooped me into his arms and held me while I cried. All that I could feel were his arms around me, holding me together while I fell apart.

I cried for Emily, the sweet nurse that hadn't deserved her slow and painful death to exposure.

I cried for myself, for the pain and torture that had nearly taken my life as well.

I cried for the loss of something that I couldn't even quite put my finger on.

Steve held me as my sobs grew quiet, and then turned into shuddering sighs. When at last I was still and quiet, he kissed the top of my head. "Please," he begged me quietly. "Will you get help?"

"Yes."

"Thank God."

We stayed like that for several more minutes, and then he lifted me up as he stood.

"I can walk," I protested, but put my arms around his neck as he carried me towards the bedroom.

"I know. I've seen you do it. And may I just say, you're _quite_ talented at it."

Smiling, I said, "Flatterer."

He set me down on my side of the bed and then slid in beside me, holding me close.

"The lights are still on."

"I know." He smiled gently and brushed a wayward strand of hair out of my face. "I'm probably about to head out for training. You can get in an extra hour of sleep, though."

That sounded like heaven. "I think I'll do that."

"Talk to someone today," he said and leaned in to kiss me. "Okay?"

"Okay." I kissed him again and then smiled guiltily. "You know, couples that have only been dating for a few months don't normally have obstacles this large."

"That's because couples aren't usually as incredible as we are. And normally, relationships don't start on a rescue mission in Asia. During an avalanche."

Hearing it said out loud made me laugh. "It sounds like a movie."

"Don't joke. We could sell the rights and make millions."

"To do that, we'd have to see how the story plays out."

"That's easy." He leaned in and kissed me again, long and slow. "With a happily ever after."

 _Steve_

The front door opened and Bailey called out, "Hey, I'm back."

"Great. How did it go?"

For the last five months, Bailey had been seeing a therapist on Thursdays. She still had a long way to go, but she described it as a journey to healing and said that she was right where she needed to be. Paxil hadn't worked well at all, but the Zoloft that she took daily seemed to be helping. When things got too bad, she had Ativan that she could take, but she hadn't had an episode like that in over two months. She still had nightmares, but she handled them much better and there were some nights that she didn't have them at all.

She came into the kitchen and smiled when she saw me stirring the soup. "You're making dinner?"

"I cook," I said defensively, but her surprise was completely justified. I'd been known to burn grilled cheese. "It's your recipe and I've been following the directions to the letter."

"Ah." She came a bit closer and took an overly dramatic cautious sniff.

I playfully pushed her out of the way.

"Hey!" She laughed and moved to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. "It went fine. I don't think I'll need too many more sessions."

My metaphorical antennas went up. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes at me and popped the top of the aluminum can. "Because I've made a lot of improvement and I think that I can handle it from here. I'll still be meeting with Dr. Cooper every now and then until I decide that I don't need the medication anymore."

"You should go to therapy as long as you need."

"I know. But I don't think that I need it much longer."

I decided not to push it. One of the most endearing – and, in some cases, _annoying_ – traits of hers was stubbornness. But not just any stubbornness. It was on par with my father's, and that was saying something. "Soup's almost ready."

"Okay. I'll set the table."

We worked comfortably together, chatting about our respective days. Living with her was easy, despite our small arguments about where the milk goes in the fridge or if the toilet paper is supposed to go over or under. She hadn't wanted to be alone after everything that had happened, and so she had moved in with me and gotten rid of her apartment.

 _I could live with her forever_.

As the thought crossed my mind, I nearly reeled back in shock. I'd never given too much thought to the whole marriage and family business. I had always assumed that it would just come along when the time was right. But… Bailey had made me start to believe that maybe the time _was_ right. We already lived together and shared nearly everything. Why not officially share a life, too?

"Steve?"

I came out of my train of thought to find her standing at the stove, looking at me curiously. "Sorry. What?"

"Soup's ready."

"Right."

But my mind was as far away from soup as it could be.

 _I'm going to marry that woman_.

 _Bailey_

"Just log in."

I looked at Steve and exclaimed with incredulity, "Just _log in_?"

Looking confused, he nodded. "Yes, that's what I just said. Log in and see if you passed."

"No." I set the laptop aside and stood, beginning to pace. "God, I'm so nervous. What if I didn't pass?"

"You can take them again, right?"

I didn't miss a step. "Yes, but no one wants to be the person that couldn't pass their boards the first time around."

"Bailey, there's no way that you didn't pass your boards. I don't think I've ever seen anyone study as hard as you did in the weeks leading up to that exam."

True… I'd stayed up late every single night and had been up early every single morning. My notes and flash cards had taken up every single inch of counter space. My stress levels had been through the roof. There was no way that I could have failed after all of that. And yet…

"I can't check. It gives me too much anxiety. Do I still have any Ativan lying around here somewhere?"

"No," he said sternly. "You're not taking any Ativan, because Ativan makes you sleepy. And if you're too _sleepy_ , you won't feel like going out and celebrating, which we are going to do because _you passed your boards_. Now just log in and make it official."

With a sigh, I plopped down onto the sofa and picked up my laptop. Heart pounding in my chest, I typed in all of the appropriate information and then waited as it loaded. But, when the appropriate screen came up, I found myself unable to look at it.

I shoved the laptop at Steve. "I can't look at it." I stood and moved for the kitchen. "I feel like I'm going to pass out."

"Bailey-"

I cut him off. "I don't want to know, okay? I'll check it later."

"But Bailey-"

"Are we out of Coke? I don't see any in the fridge."

"Bailey!" Steve cut me off and I turned to see him grinning at me. "You passed."

Suddenly elated, I squealed, "I did?!"

"You did." He set the laptop aside, still grinning. "Congratulations."

I threw my hands up into the air like some college kid instead of an accomplished doctor. "No more residency!"

"Not to brag, but I told you so." Steve laughed. "Now, go get dressed and figure out where you want to go to celebrate."

An hour later, we were at my favorite Italian restaurant, munching on breadsticks and sipping on sangrias. It was a weeknight, so we hadn't had to wait at all, and it wasn't overly crowded. Conversation was flowing smoothly. Everything felt absolutely perfect.

"What now?" Steve asked me once our entrées had arrived. "Are you going to stay with the Navy?"

"I considered leaving, after everything." I thoughtfully studied my pasta. "But military psychiatry is where my passion is, and I want to pursue that. So, yes, I think I'm going to stay with the Navy and turn down the offer from the civilian hospital."

His smile told me exactly what he thought of that plan before his words did. "That's great. I know that we've talked about it a few times, but I still wasn't sure exactly where you stood on it. I'm glad that you've officially decided to stay."

"Yeah, well, I also think that the consistency will be good for me. Routine, patterns… it'll be good for my recovery. And… you know…" I found myself unable to finish, a heat creeping up my neck and to my cheeks.

It wasn't as though Steve and I hadn't said "I love you" to each other. We'd said it very early on in our relationship, our mutual traumatic experience having pushed us closer than most couples have a hope of being in the beginning. There's something to be said about sharing a trauma and being together on the journey to healing from it.

"What do I know?" Steve had picked up on the nervous undertone in my voice. Steve picked up on nearly everything. In the early months, I had chalked it up to his SEAL training, but now I knew that we just had a connection. A connection that not everybody was fortunate enough to find and that plenty of people wished for.

I met his eyes and took a deep breath. "A lot of the decision had to do with you."

"With me."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I confirmed. "With you. I didn't want to be too far away from you, and I know that you don't have a desire to leave the SEALs anytime soon. So, we'll stick it out in Virginia until you're done with Team Six, and then we'll go wherever we want."

"Together."

My heart started to beat a little faster as a dismal thought occurred to me. "Unless… unless you don't _want_ to make plans like that. I mean, planning so far into the future. That might have been a little much. I…" Fully aware that I was rambling, I was so grateful when he took my hand and stopped me from continuing.

"Will you…"

"Stop talking?" I guessed.

"Stop interrupting," he corrected me, but softened it with a small smile.

My blush intensified. "I'm sorry."

"Will you marry me?"

He could have asked me to chop off my own hand and I wouldn't have been any more shocked. My mouth fell open and I lost all ability to speak. The gears in my brain were whirring at high speed, making it difficult to concentrate.

On the one hand, marriage was _scary_. My parents had divorced when I was seven and all of my memories of their marriage were horrible. If you married someone and ended up married to the wrong person, it could do damage that would take years to repair. I'd seen it in plenty of my clients that struggled with depression or anxiety after a failed marriage.

On the other hand… Steve wasn't the wrong person. I was so certain of this that I was a bit startled at my own conclusion. I had always promised myself that I would be extremely picky about the man that I was going to marry, because I did _not_ want to end up in a marriage like my parents'. And Steve… Steve was everything that I had ever wanted. He had his flaws, sure, but so did I.

And after surviving an avalanche and an attack with gunfire, I was certain that we could handle anything else that life had to throw at us.

"Bailey?"

Steve looked a bit nervous, and I absentmindedly wondered how long I had been frozen like that, my hand in his.

Smiling to reassure him, I asked, "Is there a ring?"

Relief flooded his features and he laughed. "Yes, yes, there's a ring. Not here, though. I bought it a few weeks ago and I wasn't actually planning to propose tonight, so…" He shrugged sheepishly. "Do you think that maybe we can just do this all again tonight back at the apartment?"

I squeezed his hand. "No way. As far as I'm concerned, we're engaged – ring or no ring."

His brown eyes were practically glowing with joy. "Excellent."

"In fact…" The warm, bubbly feeling was overwhelming me. "Let's skip the long engagement period, why don't we? Let's just get married. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow?"

Surprised, he asked, "Here?"

"Or anywhere in the US." The possibilities ran through my brain so fast that I could hardly keep up. "Vegas, NYC, Hawaii… hell, I don't care. Where do you want to go?"

Suddenly grinning, Steve looked at his watch. "It's too late to go right now, but we can fly out first thing in the morning."

No longer hungry, I shoved my plate of pasta away and stood. "Then we should go and pack."


	11. Some Things Never Change

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of my second Hawaii Five-O fic! If you haven't already, please check out Boundless as the Sea, my first story. If you're enjoying this one, I think that you'll enjoy that one as well.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone that has read, reviewed, favorited, followed, and private messaged. I really appreciate each and every one of you!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Eleven: Some Things Never Change**

 _Bailey_

"I thought you'd be happier about this," I confessed as I watched my husband zip up his duffel bag, face like stone. "We always talked about having five kids. Ethan and Sarah are in school now, and I think that the spacing is good."

"Another kid right now just isn't a good idea," he said, voice low.

My stomach dropped and I felt nauseous. And not in a morning sickness kind of way. "It might not just be an _idea_ , Jacob."

"I don't even know if I want to know."

The confession was like a slap in the face. "Are you _serious_ right now?"

"Not forever," he amended, but the damage was already done. "Springing this on me when I'm about to head out for an op really wasn't the best timing on your part."

I simultaneously wanted to shake some sense into him and slap him for being an idiot. "You didn't _tell me_ that you were heading out on an op tomorrow morning! I thought we were just having a normal dinner. You talked to Ethan and Sarah about school. We washed dishes together and I thought I'd mention that I'm planning to go and buy some tests because I'm late and I've been feeling a little off lately. Next thing I know, you're storming up here to pack a bag because you're off to _God knows where_ tomorrow."

He threw his arms up in exasperation. " _Forgive me_ for defending our country."

"That's not what this is about, and you _know that_. We've talked about having another child and now that I'm telling you that it is a _real possibility_ , you _don't want to know_?"

Uttering a word that wasn't pretty, he sank down onto the bed, anger and frustration warring on his face. "Go buy a test, then. Let's get it over with."

" _Get it over with_." The words were barely a whisper on my lips. Tears blurred my vision as I turned and headed for the door. "Fine. I'll _get it over with_. I'll text you with the results."

"Bailey-"

I shut the door behind me before he could say anything else, and he didn't come after me. He probably figured that I needed a bit of space – and he would be very correct in thinking so.

It hadn't even been that long ago that Jacob and I had talked about having another baby. We'd just finished unpacking the last box after our move to Hawaii and he'd made a joke about it when I'd told him to put the baby clothes in the attic to save for our next baby.

" _How about I keep them down here and we start working on it?" he'd asked me as he grabbed me._

 _I'd laughed and said, "You think you're ready for middle of the night diaper changes again?"_

" _Definitely."_

Now, suddenly, it _wasn't the right time_. I snorted as I grabbed the keys off of the hook and headed into the garage. It was entirely possible that he was just stressed about the upcoming op. But that didn't make it acceptable.

The trip to the store was quick, and I soon returned to find Jacob sitting on the stairs, waiting for me.

"You should be in bed," I said, much as I would have if I'd found Ethan or Sarah sitting there instead.

"So should you," he murmured and rose, reaching out for me. "I'm sorry, Bailey. I don't know what got into me. I'd be incredibly happy to have another baby. I guess I'm just a little worked up."

I gave him my hand and he pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Forgive me?" he murmured.

A stubborn, immature part of me wanted to say no, but I pushed that urge aside and nodded. "I forgive you."

He was smiling when he pulled back. "I love you. So…" He gestured to the bag in my hand. "Should we go find out if I need to bring the baby boxes down from the attic?"

The corners of my lips curled up in a smile and I nodded. "I guess there's no sense in delaying the inevitable."

As we climbed the stairs, he asked me, "Boy or girl, do you think?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Five minutes later, Jacob gave me a small, slightly sad smile. "I'm sorry. I know that you were excited about the possibility. But we can try again next month. If you're ready to get pregnant right away, we can do that ovulation tracker thing."

I nodded and forced myself to smile. "Yeah. I'm just going to wash my face and brush my teeth and then I'll come to bed, okay?"

"Okay." He kissed me quickly and retreated, leaving me alone in a bathroom that felt both too big and too small.

The single pink line stared back at me from the counter, taunting me.

I picked it up and stared, trying desperately to blink back the tears and hold it together.

 _Grieve_. The voice was twelve years old, but I heard it just as clearly as if he was in the room with me. _You'll never heal if you don't allow yourself to grieve._

With the wisdom reverberating through my skull, I sank down onto the floor and cried.

 _Steve_

The surprise that I felt at seeing Bailey's name on my phone was nothing compared to the joy. Pushing both aside, I answered. "Hey, Bailey. What's up?"

"I, uh… I need a favor."Her voice was off… guilty, nervous, anxious.

Turning away from the crime scene, I asked, "What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm…" She laughed without humor. "Yes, I'm okay. Jacob left a few days ago on an op, so it's just me and the kids, and… I'm not doing so well. I could use a bit of adult interaction, I think." I could tell that it had taken a lot for her to admit that.

"Sure. Did you want me to come over?" Belatedly, I realized that maybe suggesting that I come over to her house while her husband was out of the country wasn't the best idea.

But before I could rescind the offer, she accepted. "That would be great. The kids were asking for pizza, if you wanted to come over for dinner."

It was probably a bad idea. "Perfect. And luckily for you three, I know where to get the best pizza on the island."

There was finally the hint of a smile in her voice. "That _is_ lucky. They'll eat anything, so supreme is fine."

"Extra cheese and thin crust?" I confirmed.

"That would be correct."

"Great. I'll see you all tonight at five-ish."

"See you then."

"I don't think that someone would even _need_ to be a detective to figure out who you're talking to."

I spun to see Danny standing a few feet away, arms akimbo, eyes slightly narrowed. "Did you need something?"

He gestured to the phone in my hand, ignoring my question. "Was that Bailey?"

"You're the ace detective. _You_ tell _me_."

With a roll of his eyes, he followed me as I made my way back to the crime scene to have a look around. "Did I hear that you're taking pizza over to her place?"

"I am."

"Did I _also_ hear and understand correctly that her husband will not be there?"

I muttered a curse under my breath and looked over at him. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

Rolling my eyes, I knelt down beside some blood splatter. "Obviously. Look at this. Our victim was killed here and then moved to the next room." I pointed to some lighter spots. "And someone tried to clean up here."

"They don't have a future in housekeeping." Danny pinned me with an intent look. "Steven, look at me. Answer my question."

He wasn't going to give it up, so I sighed and moved closer to speak in a low tone. "No, her husband will not be there. He's on an op right now, and Bailey could use some adult interaction. I'm going over there with pizza, that's all."

"And you'll leave before the kids are in bed." It didn't sound like a question, but he was clearly waiting for a response.

"That's the plan."

I actually didn't have a plan, but he didn't need to know that.

"Good." Nodding in approval, he went back to examining the crime scene.

I waved Chin over and asked him to get started on the background of our victim. Kono joined the group to talk about what she'd found at the scene and as she spoke, I realized that I wanted to solve this case especially quickly.

Surely that didn't have anything to do with the pizza party at Bailey's…

 _Bailey_

"You didn't have to do that."

In truth, I felt a little guilty for not pushing back harder when Sarah had said that she wanted Steve to read her a bedtime story and sing bedtime songs. Steve had protested gently, saying that he didn't even know any songs, but Sarah had grabbed his hand and insisted that she could teach him everything that he needed to know. So, she'd marched him off to her room and I'd been left to attend to Ethan, actually relieved that the bedtime workload had been cut in half.

"I'm glad that I did." Steve's smile was full of mirth. "I've been singing _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star_ incorrectly all these years."

I laughed, picturing the tough, stalwart Steve McGarrett singing nursery rhymes at crime scenes. "She _does_ tend to rewrite the lyrics quite a bit."

" _I'll_ say. There was a whole verse about a polar bear eating ice cream."

"That's a new one. Can I offer you a nightcap?"

The second that I'd finished my question, I wished that I could take it back without sounding rude. It was probably unwise to offer him alcohol and let him stay now that the kids were in bed and Jacob was away. But having his company had been so nice; I'd almost been able to completely relax for the first time since Jacob's departure to parts unknown.

"Sure," he accepted, sealing my fate. "Nothing too heavy, though. I have to work in the morning."

"Me too." I headed into the kitchen and heard him following me. "I think I'll just have another glass of wine. But we also have some whiskey and a little bit of scotch. Not a kind you'd like, though."

Steve laughed softly. "I _am_ still pretty picky about scotch. Can I just take another beer?"

I twisted the cork out of the bottle of wine that I'd grabbed from the fridge. "Sure. Let me just-"

"I've got it," he assured me and opened the fridge to pull out a bottle of beer. "You've got your hands full. With the kids, too. But they're great." He twisted the top off and threw it away. "You doing okay with Jacob being gone?"

We hadn't talked about it at dinner, of course, because the kids didn't need to hear it. But I _had_ called him and asked him to come over because I needed some adult interaction. No doubt, he'd picked up on the anxiety in my voice, even over the phone. I should have expected him to ask me about it.

"It's hard for the kids." I put the wine away and then leaned back against the counter. "Sarah especially. She still doesn't quite _get_ what Jacob does."

Before I could continue, he said, "I'm sure that's hard, but I wasn't asking about Sarah. I was asking about _you_."

I felt myself start to grow warm under his attention and I headed for the living room just to distract myself. "Do you mind if I start a movie? It helps me unwind before bed when Jacob is gone."

"I don't mind. Were you planning to answer my question, or did I step out of bounds?"

The remote weighed heavily in my hand as I scrolled through the list of recorded movies. The easy thing would have been to tell Steve that I didn't think that it was appropriate that he was here while Jacob was away and the kids were in bed. That's what I _should_ have done.

The problem with that was that I didn't feel that way. We weren't having an affair; we were talking. What Steve and I once shared had ended for a reason, and as long as I kept that reason in mind, everything would be fine.

 _Would Jacob see it that way?_

Well, he would just have to, I decided.

"You're not out of bounds." With a sigh, I started a random movie and sank down onto the couch. "I feel like my job right now is just to make sure that everyone is okay."

"And no one's making sure that you're okay?" Steve joined me on the couch, sitting at the far end, facing me.

"I think I've told you before that when you're a mental health professional, everyone expects you to be able to handle not being okay. Or they just don't think about the possibility that you could _not_ be okay because _of course_ you're okay. It's your _job_ to be okay."

"But it's not. It's your job to help other people learn to be okay. Their happiness isn't your responsibility, but your _own_ is. Is something making you unhappy?"

His ability to read me was unsurprising. I didn't think that there was any amount of time apart that would diminish that intense and natural connection between our minds. "Not _unhappy_ , necessarily."

I paused, wondering if telling him would upset him. Also wondering if it was appropriate to tell him. Then, I decided that he was right. _My_ happiness was my responsibility. I needed to stop worrying so much about everything else.

"I'm not pregnant."

Steve's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise and he took a long swig of beer. "Did you think that you were?"

"I did. And Jacob…" I paused, wondering how to phrase it so that Jacob didn't come out sounding like the bad guy. "He wasn't exactly enthused about the idea, even though we'd talked about it very recently. We had an argument, but we made up before he left. I just…" My eyes misted just thinking about it and I felt like an idiot. To distract myself, I finished off my wine.

After it became clear that I was done speaking for a bit, Steve cleared his throat. "You once told me that they'd done a study and determined that the grief that is most often the hardest to actually _move on_ from is the grief over the loss of possibility. Of what _could have been_." The emotion in his voice was raw. "Do you still think that's true?"

"Yes." There was no doubt in my mind. "Yes, I still think that's very true."

He smiled gently and reached out, arm hovering along the back of the couch, offering me his hand.

I took it, not trusting myself to move any closer to him in such a vulnerable state. "Thank you for coming tonight."

"I'm here for you, Bailey. No matter what."

"At least _some_ things never change."

Something heavy and powerful hung between us, but neither of us were brave enough to address it.

Probably for the best.

"That's so unrealistic," Steve said, pointing at the screen. " _Who_ holds a gun like that?"

I turned my attention to the movie. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"I taught you how to hold a gun, so I _know_ you're teasing," Steve said, but proceeded to lecture me anyway.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face, my hand still enclosed in Steve's.

 _Steve_

I woke up with sore muscles and a horrible crick in my neck.

As I became more alert, I realized where I was.

At Bailey's house. Sitting on her couch.

Holding her.

I remembered that we'd fallen asleep holding hands, but we had obviously moved in the night and now she was nestled into my side, her head on my shoulder. She smelled and felt so familiar that an ache formed in my chest.

The clock on the wall informed me that it was almost seven in the morning.

I was going to be late for work.

She inhaled deeply in her sleep and then moved just a tiny bit closer, exhaling as she turned her face up, her warm breath tickling the side of my neck.

 _I have to get out of here before I fall much further._

It took me nearly five minutes to extricate myself and settle Bailey comfortably on the couch with a blanket laid over her.

And as I headed out to my truck, I was surprised at the amount of regret that I felt for leaving.


	12. Perfect

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and welcome back to the newest chapter of my story! You've been the most amazing readers that I could ever ask for, and I appreciate each and every one of you more than you could possibly know!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **I am planning to update at least once a week (hopefully more, if I'm feeling especially motivated). Life does get in the way sometimes, but if it's been a week and you see that I still haven't updated, feel free to give me a shove until I get it done.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Twelve: Perfect**

 **Eleven Years Ago**

 _Bailey_

"Explain to me again how this works," Steve requested, tracing the palm of my hand with his index finger as if trying to memorize every line. "I thought you were done."

"I'm done with my _residency_ ," I corrected him. "But I want to specialize in military psychiatry, so now I have to do a fellowship. It's kind of like a second residency, but I'll have a lot more freedom. And it will be shorter than my residency was."

Steve hummed a response and leaned his head back against the headrest, exhausted. There hadn't been a lot of sleeping in New Orleans, where we'd decided to go on our honeymoon after making a list and just throwing a dart at it. We hadn't cared where we got married and spent our honeymoon; we just wanted to be together.

Now, we were coming back from our week-long vacation married and happier than ever. But neither of us was looking forward to getting back into the swing of things. Steve would go back to training, waiting to get called out on an op, and I would go to work and start my fellowship in military psychiatry.

"After you, Mrs. McGarrett," Steve said as he gestured for me to proceed him into the aisle. He had hardly called me anything else since the justice of the peace had declared us husband and wife.

" _Doctor_ ," I corrected him with a teasing smile.

He sighed dramatically. "Outranked by my own wife."

"Get used to it."

"I will." He grabbed our bags and waved me off when I tried to help. "Eventually."

Back at our apartment, Steve deposited the bags onto the bed and then looked at them as if stunned.

"What?" I asked him.

"We should buy a house."

His eyes didn't move from the bags.

"I agree," I said slowly, removing my jacket. "Something wrong with our bags?"

As far as I could tell, they were the correct suitcases. Still, he hadn't stopped staring at them as if he couldn't believe that they were there when _he_ was the one that had put them there.

"Yes," he answered me. "Why did I put these bags here?"

Considering the possibility of a psychotic break, I said, "I assume to unpack them?"

"No." In one sweeping motion, he shoved the bags onto the floor. "They don't look good there."

"They don't-"

But my question was cut off when he scooped me up and threw me down onto the bed, laughing and shrieking at the same time.

"There." Steve hovered over me, a smile on his face and a hunger in his eyes. " _You_ look good there. Much better."

Wordlessly, I reached out for him and he came willingly into my arms.

 _Steve_

"What about this one?"

Bailey came to a stop beside the brown leather couch and wrinkled her nose. "Seriously?"

I bit back a groan, but only because she hadn't complained once when I'd taken her to pick out my grill. Furniture shopping was much worse, though. I had been trained to withstand torture, but furniture shopping had me ready to break. Twice already I had considered just telling Bailey that we could just buy an air mattress and make do with that.

"I guess not." I eyed the sea of furniture still left to explore and sighed. "Maybe if you'd tell me what we're looking for, I could be more helpful."

"Right now, we're looking for a sofa."

I felt my eyes narrow at her smart comment. "I hadn't noticed."

"That could be a part of the problem."

Ignoring her ribbing, I moved on from the leather sofa. "You won't tell me which color, what material, or the style that you want. How am I supposed to make good selections with so little information?"

"Having seen your last few selections, I don't think that you _are_."

I tried to appear stern and miffed, but looking at her could only bring a smile to my face. "That wasn't nice."

Bailey took my hand and pulled me along. "We'll know the right couch when we come across it. We may have to try other stores."

The thought of setting foot in another furniture store made me want to curl into a ball and cry. "I'd rather be getting shot at."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. Consider this an exercise in withstanding torture, if you want."

"Already done."

She muttered something under her breath and stopped in front of a white sectional. "What about this one?"

"Sure." I would have agreed to a broken, lime green couch if it meant that we would get out of that store any faster. "But is white really such a good idea?"

Her brow furrowed as she looked at me. "Why wouldn't white be a good idea? You're clean."

True. All a part of my military training.

"Yeah, but kids aren't."

Surprise lit her blue eyes. " _Kids_?"

"Kids," I repeated, confused at her confusion. "You know, little versions of me and you. I hear that they're messy."

"But…"

I frowned, anxiety building in my chest. "I thought you wanted kids?"

"I do," she rushed to say. "But… probably not right now."

"But in the next five years or so, right?"

I certainly hoped so. I had no desire to be an old father. I wanted to still have plenty of energy to run around with my kids.

"Yes…"

Gesturing to the couch, I said, "Don't you think we'll still have this couch by then?"

She finally smiled. "I guess you're right. Leather might be the wiser decision in the long run."

Grabbing her hand, I began to pull her back towards the couch I'd shown her before. "I know just the one."

She laughed the whole way.

 _Bailey_

"Should have called it good after residency," Tom teased me as he watched me yawn for the fifth time during our lunch. "Fellowship looks like it's doing quite a number on you."

I stifled another yawn and reached for my coffee. "Fellowship isn't all that bad. I just can't get enough sleep."

"You and Steve have been married for three months. _Surely_ the honeymoon phase is over."

Blushing, I said, "It's not. But that isn't even it. Steve's on an op right now, remember?"

He'd left nearly a week ago, and I had no idea when he would be home. That was definitely the hardest part of our marriage – the time apart and the danger that Steve was in whenever he was on assignment. It was one thing for your husband to be gone on a business trip in another state. It was an entirely different thing for your husband to be getting shot at in another country.

But being a SEAL was what Steve loved, and he was very talented at it. I didn't have any intentions of ever asking him to get out. _Steve_ , however, had told me that he planned to get out whenever we had children. He didn't want to miss out on too much of our kids' lives because he was off fighting for the country. He had said that he'd think about taking a training position or something when the time came.

"Right." Tom offered a sad smile. "How are you doing with that?"

"It is what it is."

I shrugged, but it wasn't easy. I missed him terribly and was constantly anxious for news.

"You feeling okay?"

Actually, my stomach was hurting a bit, but I'd been hoping that eating lunch would help. So far, it hadn't. "Eh."

"You look kind of pale. Do you think you're coming down with something?"

"I hope not. I hate missing work. Have you had a lot of cases of the stomach bug in the ER?"

He nodded confirmation. "Ten so far today. There were a lot yesterday, too. Maybe you caught it. I had it last week."

"Great," I mumbled as fear churned my already queasy stomach. "Just what I need."

"Do you want me to get you some Zofran so that you can finish the day?"

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"You're not pregnant, are you?" he asked as he crumpled his sandwich wrapper. "They're doing studies right now trying to determine if it actually causes harm to a fetus."

"No, I'm-"

But I abruptly broke off as the reality hit me in the face.

The exhaustion, no matter how much sleep I got.

The nausea, especially at the strong smells in the cafeteria.

The odd craving for chips and salsa.

The head and back aches.

"Oh, God."

Tom's eyes widened. "I was kidding, but… do you think you are?"

"I think… I think it's a possibility."

"Do you want me to have your urine tested?"

Such a casual offer. That's what you get when your best friend is a doctor – casual offers to test your urine.

Still, I wasn't going to pass it up. It was cheaper and more effective than going to the store and buying a Clearblue box. "I think that's a good idea."

He nodded and stood. "Let's go, then. I only have twenty more minutes before my shift starts."

 _Steve_

Something was wrong.

Bailey had smiled and greeted me with a kiss when she'd picked me up from the base in the middle of the night.

She'd said that she had missed me terribly while I'd been gone and she was so happy that I was back.

All of the appropriate things had been said and done, and yet…

Something was wrong.

"Everything okay?" I asked, eyes homing in on her left hand, restless against the steering wheel. Agitated, maybe? PTSD symptoms resurfacing?

"Huh?" she glanced at me and then smiled, but it wasn't completely genuine. "Oh, yeah. I had a full patient load today. I'm exhausted."

That, at least, seemed true. She had slight circles under her eyes and was a bit pale. "Have you not been sleeping well while I was gone?"

"An empty bed feels strange now, I guess."

Feeling bad, I grabbed her free hand. "I'm sorry. I really thought that it would only take a week, two at the most. Three weeks was excessive."

She shook her head and gave my hand a squeeze. "You can't control these things."

We were close to our home, and I could almost _feel_ her anxiety go up the closer that we got.

Something was definitely wrong.

But what was the best strategy to figure out what it was? Pressing her might make her retreat or become so stubborn that I wouldn't get anything out of her. But not bringing it up at all might mean that I never got any answers at all.

 _Best to just bring it up casually once we're inside,_ I decided. _I'll wait until we're getting ready for bed so that she has a chance to bring it up first, if she wants._

Once we made it home, I carried my bag inside and dumped it just inside the door.

"Laundry room," Bailey gently ordered, but she was smiling.

I saluted her. "Yes, ma'am."

She laughed and shoved me playfully. "Hurry up. I have something to show you." The way that she said the last part indicated that whatever she had to show me was what she was anxious about.

"Show me what?" I asked curiously even as I picked up my bag and moved for the laundry room.

"You'll see. It's upstairs."

I vaguely wondered if she'd broken something and was worried about how I would react. If she had, it wasn't that big of a deal. Even if there was some damage to the house, we could surely find someone to fix it if I couldn't repair it myself.

Once the bag was deposited in the laundry room, I held my arms out to my sides. "Done. What's upstairs?"

She held out her hand and, once I'd grabbed it, pulled me up the stairs.

"No hint?" I teased her.

"You'll see," she answered simply.

We stopped outside of the door to the guest room that we hadn't decorated yet. Bailey hadn't wanted to spend the last of our savings to put furniture in a room that would probably never be used, so we had decided to wait to do anything with that room.

"Did you finally decide to go with my suggestion and make it a workout room?" I asked her.

She rolled her eyes at me. "You can work out on base or in the garage. No, I decided to do something else with the room." Her anxiety had gone back up; she was gently wringing her hands.

My curiosity was piqued.

"Without me?" I asked with a faux pout, but I didn't care all that much.

"You'll have to help me finish decorating it," she said with a forced smile. "Go ahead and take a look."

Relieved that I would finally know what was going on, I twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping inside as I flicked the light on.

There, right in the middle of the room, was a white crib with a naked mattress settled inside of it.

Stunned beyond words, I turned to look at Bailey.

Still appearing slightly anxious, she gestured to the crib with her hand. "Go on."

I nodded speechlessly and walked over to the crib. Once I was close enough, I could see that there was something like a picture on the mattress.

 _Not a picture_ , I realized when I reached for it. _An ultrasound picture._

My fingers were trembling slightly as I picked it up and quickly scanned the top corner, where it listed the hospital, doctor's name, and Bailey's name.

"This is from today," I said when I noticed the date, and my voice was rough. "Nine weeks?"

"Yeah," she said as she came up beside me. "Due May thirteenth. I know that we planned on waiting a bit, but…"

So, that's why she had been anxious. She hadn't known if I would be excited about it because it wasn't exactly what we had planned.

Turning to her, I reached out and grabbed one of her hands. "Who cares? This is perfect. Our baby is going to be perfect." I looked down at the sonogram again and felt the tears spring to my eyes as I thought about holding my baby in my arms. "Does it have a heartbeat?"

"Yes." Bailey cleared her throat with a small laugh. "One hundred and sixty beats per minute."

I felt my brows raise in surprise. "That's really fast. Is something wrong?"

She laughed again. "No. Fetus' heart rates are faster than ours. Do you want me to go through all of the physiology?"

"That's okay." I likely wouldn't understand it, even if she _did_ go through it. "But can you tell me what all I'm looking at here?"

She spent the next few minutes pointing out all of the different body parts and explaining to me what the hell a _placenta_ is. Once I was satisfied, I pulled her into my arms and kissed the top of her head.

"My contract with teams will end in June. As soon as it's up, I'll get out. Joe can probably get me a good training position either here, or somewhere else, if you want to leave Virginia."

"I'm good with Virginia."

"You should lie down," I suddenly declared and began to lead her out of the room. "You should be resting."

"Steve, come on," she laughed, but didn't resist. "Women in Thailand work in the rice fields right up until they have their babies. It's not like I spend all day on my feet."

"Still. You should rest as much as possible. When's the next appointment? Can I come?"

We got ready for bed together as we talked about all of the things that would happen from here. I assured her that I would be there for as much as I possibly could. She seemed to be just as excited as I was, all traces of anxiety gone.

"I should probably call and tell my dad," I mused after a while, dreading the whole idea. "He was _so_ receptive to my marriage."

Her smile was sad. "He was surprised. And maybe a little hurt that he wasn't invited."

"That's no reason to be a-"

"Hey," she cut me off and pointed at her still-flat stomach. "Watch your language. Little ears."

I felt my surprise grow. "The baby can hear us already?"

"Not yet," she admitted. "Closer to twenty weeks. But start practicing now."

"That means that I only have eleven more weeks to not worry about what the baby can hear," I mused and then play tackled Bailey back onto the bed. "I plan to take advantage."

She laughed, but soon gave in to my kisses.

Everything was perfect.


	13. Truths

… **..**

 **Hey, everyone! Thanks for coming back to another chapter of my story! This one has been quite a challenge to write, but I'm finding that I enjoy it immensely. How do you all feel that it's going? I love hearing from you, so don't hold back!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Thirteen: Truths**

 _Steve_

"You okay?"

At Danny's question, I snapped out of the trance that had taken – I checked – fifteen minutes of my life. The computer screen showed my research page still up, but I couldn't even remember the last thing that I had read.

"I'm fine." I rubbed my eyes and tried to clear my mind of all things Bailey-related. "Did you find something?"

Rather than answering my question, he narrowed his eyes in that studious way of his. "Do you have a certain psychiatrist on the mind?"

So much for forgetting about all things Bailey-related.

I didn't have a good answer for him, so I repeated my question. "Did you find something?"

"If I answer your question, will you answer mine?" He closed the door behind him and sat down in one of the chairs across from my desk. He crossed one ankle over his knee, arms relaxed, smug smile on his face.

"Fine," I said through my teeth. "What did you find?"

"I talked with the Denver PD," he answered me, and he then proceeded to run through the conversation that he'd had with them. Our hunch about the suspect had been spot on.

"Where does that put us?" I asked Danny once he had finished.

"Chin and Kono went to go and find Toast to try to track him down using all of his devices. Lou is out for some lunch; he said that he'd bring us some back. _Now_ , what about Bailey had you so distracted?"

"I wasn't distracted." As proof, I turned my computer screen around so that he could see the research that I'd been doing. "See? The murder weapon."

Pursing his lips slightly, Danny nodded in approval. "I see. I guess I stand a little corrected. But you _were_ thinking about her. Pretty intensely."

There was no way that I could deny that to someone that knew me so well.

"I was. She's having a hard time right now."

He nodded slowly and pursed his lips more dramatically, thinking. "And that _bothers_ you?"

I was surprised that he even had to ask that. "Of course it _bothers_ me."

"You know that she's not your responsibility anymore, don't you?"

 _She'll_ always _be my responsibility._

Startled by the intensity of that thought, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, buying myself a few moments of thought with the position change. Technically, Danny was right. Any responsibility that I had for Bailey ended when the divorce papers had been signed. But in my eyes, because of everything that we had shared… I would always feel like she was my responsibility. I would always care for her and be there for her, just as I'd told her that night that I'd stayed over.

"I know."

He nodded his approval, but something in his expression told me that he didn't believe that was how I truly felt. Danny was a fantastic detective – and an even better friend.

"Why is she having a rough time?"

Surprised that he asked, I said, "Why do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "I'm just curious."

Fair enough. "Jacob is out on an op right now, and there's no way to know how long he'll be gone. And…" I thought about the negative pregnancy test and knew that it wasn't mine to share. "She had a pretty big disappointment right before he left."

Thankfully, Danny didn't ask me what the disappointment was. Instead, he stood. "I can't imagine. Keep your head on straight, though, okay? I know that I said that I would support you no matter what happened with her and I still mean that, but make sure it's what you want before you dive in. I'm speaking from experience."

"Danny, nothing happened."

But my thoughts turned to waking up with Bailey in my arms and I knew that wasn't entirely true.

He clearly noticed the subtle change in my expression. "Mhmm. I'll keep checking with Chin and Kono and let you know when they get a trace on him."

"Great."

The subject of Bailey was over.

For now, anyway.

 _Bailey_

"Damn!" I muttered angrily as the fire once more died out.

The side door slid open and Sarah poked her head out, blonde hair waving with the gentle breeze. "Mom, when are the hotdogs going to be ready? I'm starving."

Reigning in my impatience, I forced a smile and said, "I'm working on it, baby. Are you finished with your book?"

"Yes." Her dark eyes, so like her father's, narrowed as she took in the scene. "I thought you were going to start cooking the hotdogs?"

A spurt of irritation flared in my head and I made a mental note to take a relaxing bubble bath later. My patience was wearing thin, and my stress levels were rising with each day of Jacob's absence.

"I _am_ , sweetie. Did you need something?"

"Yeah. Steve is here."

I lost my grip on the lighter and mentally steadied myself. "What?"

"Steve is here," she repeated more slowly. "He knocked on the door. He's waiting outside."

"Outside?"

"You told us not to ever open the door for anyone, even you or Daddy."

Yes, we had told them that.

"Okay." I set the lighter aside and wiped my slightly sweaty palms on the front of my dark jeans. "I'll go let him in."

As I passed her, Sarah fell into step right behind me. "Can he stay for dinner?"

"I don't know, sweetie. He might have other plans."

Steve was, indeed, waiting on the front porch, hands in the pockets of his jeans. The light blue button-up shirt that he wore accented his tall, muscled figure. There was no gun holstered on his belt and he wasn't wearing his boots, so I assumed that he was not on duty.

"Hey," I greeted him with a smile. "This is a surprise."

"And not an imposition, I hope," he said with a sheepish grin. "I thought you could use some company."

"Steve!" Sarah pushed past me and ran to hug his legs. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

Steve knelt down to give her a more proper hug and laughed at her enthusiasm. "I can't think of anything that would make me happier, but I think you should ask your mother if it's okay."

Sarah looked to me with practiced puppy dog eyes. "Please, Mom? Can Steve stay for dinner?"

I laughed and threw my hands up as if in surrender. "You've talked me into it. But you have to go and help Ethan finish the chores."

"Okay." Sarah took Steve's hand and led him inside. "You can help my mom with the hotdogs. She doesn't know how to grill."

My cheeks flamed as I followed them inside. "I _know_ how to grill."

Sarah put her hands on her hips. "Then why aren't the hotdogs ready yet?"

There was laughter in Steve's eyes that made my cheeks burn even hotter. "Go do your chores."

With a mock salute, she raced off to go and find her brother.

I was left in the entryway with Steve, who was grinning with laughter still dancing in his eyes.

"I _know_ how to grill," I informed him, though I owed him no explanation. "I'm just having a little trouble getting the coals to stay lit. Jacob prefers charcoal to propane and I can never get the damn thing to stay lit."

"I'm happy to help, if you want."

I sighed, resigned. "Fine. Come on; it's on the side deck."

Naturally, Steve had the coals lit in no time at all. It was like he'd been born to grill, even though I had seen him in action and knew that he'd been born to fight for justice.

"Well done," I said dryly.

He laughed slightly. "It just takes practice."

"Whatever." I moved for the door. "Do you want a beer?"

"Please."

I fetched him a beer, poured myself a glass of wine, and then returned to the deck to find Steve checking the temperature.

"Thanks." He took the beer with a smile and asked, "How has it been going?"

"Work has been hectic because the other psychiatrist broke his arm and has been out, so I've had twice the workload. That hasn't been fun. Jacob checked in yesterday and still doesn't know how long he'll be gone, so that's no fun. Sarah and Ethan keep asking me why he keeps going away for work instead of finding somewhere to work closer to home. Sarah said that she thought that we were moving so that Daddy could stay home more."

My voice caught and I found myself blinking back tears, even though I wasn't one to get emotional very quickly. Something about talking to Steve just took all of my barriers down.

He stood at the grill, tongs in one hand, beer in the other, watching me intently. "I'm sorry."

I laughed without humor. " _You're_ sorry? You don't have anything to be sorry for, Steve. In fact, I'm really grateful that you're here. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Shrugging, he shot me a teasing grin. "Well, _you_ would know. You _are_ the expert in that field."

"How is crimefighting?" I needed to talk about something other than my stressful life.

Luckily, he didn't object to the subject change. "We had a pretty tough case earlier."

He quickly brought me up to speed on the murder that had been committed to cover up a murder that had occurred ten years prior. As he brushed over the crime scene, I felt a twinge of sympathy. He spoke as though it didn't bother him, but I knew that it did.

"It never gets any easier," I said as I sipped at my wine. "But you seem to be dealing with it pretty well."

He started to flip the hotdogs and his voice was full of caution. " _Seem_?"

"Seem," I confirmed.

His laughter was soft, and there wasn't much humor in it. "I guess you still know me pretty well."

"Did you truly expect any differently?"

"Guess not." He leveled me with a look that I'd seen a thousand times. "You know that crime scenes are still hard for me the same way that I know that you're not holding it together as well as you had hoped you would."

I wasn't surprised in the least. "We'll always know each other."

"That's a fate I can handle." He smiled and went back to the hotdogs. "These are almost done. Do you have a plate that you want them on?"

"Yeah, just a sec."

I was grateful for the opportunity to retreat and catch my breath. It seemed that Steve and I were incapable of having a conversation that didn't involve that intense, all-consuming emotion hovering between us, tempting us.

The protestor in my brain tried to convince me to end my friendship with Steve McGarrett, as those feelings seemed to only grow stronger each time that we were together. But the logical part of my brain argued that those feelings had always been there, even when we'd been thousands of miles apart. Those feelings would always be there.

Steve had rescued me from my torturous captors and then turned right around and rescued me from a brutal avalanche. He'd stood guard over me while I burned with fever, infection eating away at my body. He had kept me company in the cave and had snuck some of his rations onto my plate when he thought I wasn't looking. He'd given up one of his guns for me so that I would have an extra layer of protection if I needed it. And then he'd been beside me every step of the way while I recovered.

That history would always be there.

Those feelings would always be there.

I had collected myself by the time that I walked back out onto the deck with an aluminum foil-covered plate. "You can put them on this. I'm going to set the table."

"Okay." He took the plate with a smile. "They should be ready in a couple of minutes."

I called the kids down to help me set the table, and Sarah insisted that we eat outside because it was such a beautiful day. So, she carried the ketchup and mustard out there while Ethan followed with the relish and the buns. I brought the chips, silverware, napkins, and paper plates. Steve brought the hotdogs over, we each got ourselves a drink, and then I helped Ethan with his hotdog while Steve helped Sarah.

Easy conversation flowed and I smiled at how well Steve fit in with me and my kids. He answered all of Sarah's crazy questions like, "what color is your dream unicorn" and "which Disney princess would you want to marry". Ethan asked him about his job and Steve answered in the most age appropriate way that he could.

 _He would be such an amazing father_ , I thought, and immediately felt a horrible, aching pain in my stomach.

When I looked up, blinking back tears, I found Steve's eyes on me, concerned.

I wouldn't have been surprised if he knew exactly what I'd been thinking about.

With a sympathetic smile, he returned his attention to Sarah's most recent question. "I don't know who would win in a fight between a unicorn and a rhino."

After dinner, Sarah wanted Steve to push her on the swings, and he readily obliged as though he hadn't just endured her Spanish Inquisition. Ethan stood near him and they talked about whatever men liked to discuss. I watched them through the kitchen window as I put things away and cleaned up.

They all looked so perfect together, and the pang in my chest returned.

Later, after I had put both kids to bed, I came downstairs and found Steve out on the porch, cleaning the grill.

"You don't have to do that," I said guiltily. "I was going to get to it."

He shot me a quick smile and went back to cleaning. "Charcoal grills really need to be cleaned right away. And it's not like I had anything else to do. You didn't seriously expect me to just drink my beer and look at the stars, did you?"

"I guess not." If there was one thing Steve McGarrett hated, it was inactivity.

"You can keep me company, though, if it's not too much trouble. I'm almost done here."

I took a seat near him, perched on the porch railing. "Is it odd being back home? Everything feeling so familiar, yet so distant?"

"It's kind of creepy, you know," he teased me, "getting into people's heads like that."

"I always hate going back home," I continued as if he'd never spoken. "There's just enough that has remained the same, so that you get that sense of familiarity. But then there's also plenty of things that have changed, and the lack of connection there makes you feel sad."

"I guess you could put it that way."

Obviously, he wanted to move on to a new subject. Turning my attention to the night sky, I said, "Remember when you taught me the constellations? At the monastery?"

"You were not a very good astronomer, as I recall."

I rolled my eyes and huffed out a breath, but smiled. "I remember some of them. But what I remember most are the stories that you told me that went along with them."

"Which was your favorite?" he asked, but he already knew.

"Go through them again with me," I requested, and he did.

Nearly an hour later, I walked him to the door. It was very late – later than I had ever intended to keep him.

"Thanks for stopping in," I told him. "I appreciate it more than you know."

We stopped at the door and he turned to face me, expression serious. "I know."

I stepped closer involuntarily, barely three inches left between us. We were so close that I had to look up at him, taking in the slight stubble along his strong jaw. So close that I could smell his cologne and aftershave, the same after all these years.

"Bailey." His voice was a low murmur, his hand reaching up to touch my face, cupping my cheek. " _I know_."

And he did. He knew me better than anyone, even after all that time apart.

Maybe he would _always_ know me that way.

The desire to kiss him was so strong that I couldn't move. Hardly breathed.

And I could tell that Steve wanted to kiss me, too. I'd seen that look in his eyes often enough to recognize it.

But he didn't.

Instead, he withdrew his hand, uttered a quick farewell, and left me standing in my entryway, body trembling.


	14. Burning House

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am really enjoying writing this, and that's why I especially love getting reviews and messages that express how much you're enjoying it. Keep the encouragement coming!**

 **I'm so sorry that I'm late with my update, but I've had some health issues that I've been dealing with. I'm happy to report that everything has turned out fine, and I will be back to a regular updating schedule very soon. I might even do a few chapters at once next week (but no promises!).**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, a fair warning: This chapter contains a possible trigger to some people. In no way do I get graphic about it, but the insinuation is certainly there. You'll know when it starts to happen, so please just stop reading if you think that it will bother you.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Fourteen: Burning House**

 **Eleven Years Ago**

 _Steve_

"Maybe you should call someone," Bailey said for the tenth time. "Or you could just let me help you with it."

"I can build a dresser," I growled, but even I was beginning to doubt that. There were both pictures _and_ written instructions, but they made _zero_ sense. I'd never put together a piece of furniture like that before… when we'd bought furniture for our house, the delivery guys had set everything up right where we wanted it.

From her cross-legged position on the floor, Bailey smiled at me. "If you want to come back to it later, you can."

I found myself just staring at her, enamored. She had blossomed so well with her pregnancy, and she always had some color in her cheeks now, which brought out the bright blue of her eyes. The weight gain was a frequent complaint of hers, but I thought she became more and more beautiful with each passing day. There was something about seeing her grow our child that was beyond intoxicating. I had tried to tell her as much, but she refused to believe me.

"You're thirty-two weeks," I reminded her as if she didn't have a countdown calendar on her nightstand. "I want us to have plenty of time to rearrange the room if we decide to. I have executed covert ops in areas of the world that most people have never even heard of. I can hit a moving target from over a mile away. So… I can put this dresser together."

The laughter dancing in her eyes told me that she didn't believe me, but she kept her mouth shut and went back to perusing the baby name book that she had ordered. Occasionally, she would toss out a name and I would tell her either to put it on the list or forget about it.

It was crazy to me – the thought that I would be responsible for choosing a name that someone would have for the rest of their life. But that's not all of the responsibility that this child would bring. I would have to bathe him and clothe him, feed him and protect him. I would have to teach him how to be a man, model how to be a good father. The thought terrified me.

As if she'd read my mind – she probably had – Bailey spoke without looking up from the book. "You're going to be a great father."

"They taught you how to read minds in medical school?"

"Standard training."

I smiled at her jest and sighed as I picked up the instructions once more. "I hope he never asks me to teach him how to put a dresser together."

"You're muddling through it just fine," she teased me. "At this rate, you'll be done by the time he's about six months old or so."

The glare that I shot her way didn't even begin to intimidate her. Rather, she laughed and tossed out a name that I hated.

"You know, I think I'll ask Carson to come over and help with the dresser," I finally decided after I tried – unsuccessfully – to put it together for another twenty minutes. "His dad was a carpenter and he did this kind of stuff all of the time while he was growing up."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I couldn't blame her. "You're going to _ask for help_? Who are you, and what have you done with my stubborn, I'll-do-it-myself-even-if-it-kills-me husband?"

I rolled my eyes at her, but she was absolutely correct about me. "Ha, ha. When it comes to my baby boy, I'll swallow my pride and ask for help. He deserves a sturdy, well-built dresser."

"Well, I'm proud of you. You sure you can handle all of the ribbing that Carson is sure to give you?"

"He'll always find something to rib me about." I shrugged. "Asking him for help isn't going to make it any worse, and at least I'll get something out of it this time."

"Fair." She sighed and then I saw her eyes widen slightly. "What about… Nathaniel?"

"Nathaniel…" I pondered. "Nathaniel Steven McGarrett."

Even as I said it, I knew that it was perfect. But…

"That's quite a name for a little one."

She smiled, eyes twinkling. "I have every confidence that he'll grow into it. He's going to do great things, just like his father."

"And his mother," I reminded her. "You're the strongest person I've ever met."

"Well, obviously."

She tried to joke it off, but I could tell that my words had touched her. Some days, she still struggled with the trauma of all that had happened to her over in Nepal. The nightmares were few and far between these days, but I knew that she hated that she hadn't managed to make them disappear completely.

 _Baby steps_ , I always reminded her when she grew frustrated with herself. That's what she always told her patients when they had the same frustrations. But it was different for her. She felt like she – as a health professional – should have the use of the tools in her belt to help her deal with trauma better than the average person. She was always very tough on herself.

"Come on." I stood up and walked over to her, offering my hand. "Now that I'm done with the dresser for the evening, why don't we go and get some ice cream?"

She gave me a dubious look and used my hand to pull herself to her feet, a bit unsteady due to the shift in her center of gravity these days. "You're _done_ with the dresser?"

" _For the evening_."

Laughing, she twined her fingers with mine and began to pull me out of the room. "Okay. You know I'd never turn down ice cream."

"That's my girl." I flipped the light off as we exited and asked her, "What does Nathaniel mean?"

"Gift of God."

 _Bailey_

I sat in my car in the parking lot of the small convention center where Anne had decided to throw my baby shower. Blue balloons were floating in the air at the door, tethered to the handle. They flapped in the gentle breeze as I took another deep breath and closed my eyes against the pain.

Cramping was normal in the third trimester. My OB had warned me about it very early on, so I had been prepared. But the cramps that I had been feeling had pained me all day long. So much so, in fact, that I had called up to OB to schedule an appointment for first thing in the morning. I'd been taking Tylenol regularly, but it was barely taking the edge off.

The last thing that I wanted to be doing was going to a party where I would be expected to smile and make small talk. I wanted to go home, lay in bed, and eat ice cream while I watched whatever was on TV. I needed rest, not baby gifts. But Anne had gone to a lot of trouble to put the shower together for me, and I needed to show her that I was grateful. Surely it wouldn't take more than a couple of hours. Then, I could rest.

Resolved, I took two more Tylenol and washed it down with the last of the water in my bottle. Then, I got out of my car and headed into the building before I could change my mind and just drive home.

Steve spotted me and excused himself from the conversation with some of his SEAL buddies to come over and kiss me. "You're late." His smile was teasing.

"I am." I had no joking manner in me at the moment.

Immediately, his expression morphed from happy to concerned. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Forcing a smile for his sake, I said, "Just some normal pregnancy pains. I'd say _'you know how it is'_ , but you don't and you never will. I'm jealous."

"Are you sure it's normal?" He was obviously very concerned, as he had been about every single ache and pain that I'd had so far.

"The OB warned me about these pains very early on. It's just the body preparing for delivery. Everything is fine. But just in case, I have an appointment tomorrow morning at eight."

"I'll be there." He had been to all but two of my appointments, which was very impressive for a Navy SEAL that had no control over when he would be called out.

"Okay."

There was no more time to discuss it because Anne rushed up with a wide smile on her face. "Hey, you made it! I was starting to get worried. Come on, come on; we'll announce that it's time for everyone to start eating."

By " _we_ 'll", she meant " _I'll_ ". At the front of the room on the small stage, she grabbed the microphone and announced that everyone could start going through the buffet line, starting with me and Steve. She followed close behind, asking me how I liked everything.

There was blue everywhere, but I couldn't really pay attention to the finer details because I was trying to keep the room from spinning. The cramps had only gotten worse, and I was praying that the Tylenol would kick in sooner rather than later. "It's perfect, Anne. Thank you so much for setting all of this up."

"Gotta keep my skills sharp," she joked with me. She was an event planner, which hadn't surprised any of the people that she'd gone to college with. She had always been the one at events and parties talking about what she would have done differently or how things could have been improved. When she'd offered to do the shower for me, I had accepted at once.

Anne joined Steve and me at our table and chatted away about babies and gifts and the food. I tried to contribute to the conversation, but the pains just kept coming and coming, as if I'd never taken the Tylenol at all.

Tom and his fiancée joined our table as well, and Tom's training immediately noticed that something was wrong. Concerned, he leaned close to whisper, "Everything okay?"

I was obviously doing a terrible job at convincing everyone that I was fine, so I tried to force a better smile. "Braxton Hicks contractions. They suck."

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "Sorry. No bleeding, though?"

I rolled my eyes. "Emergency medicine doctors aren't the only ones that know which red flags to watch for. I went to medical school too, you know."

Chuckling slightly, he raised his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. How was your day today?"

We talked about work, I chatted with his fiancée about their wedding plans, and as long as I kept myself distracted, the pains weren't quite so bad. I started to feel better and more confident as the time passed, and it seemed like the Tylenol was finally starting to do its job.

Once everyone was close to being finished eating, Anne directed Steve and myself up to the front of the room and announced that we were going to open presents. There was a veritable mountain of them, and I didn't see how we were going to get through them all.

Somehow, we did, and it was so much fun to see all of the things that people had bought for our baby boy. We received almost everything that we had registered for, and plenty of things that we hadn't even thought we'd need. I was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff, and I found myself so glad that Steve and I each had a car to haul all of the stuff home.

"Thank you all so much for the wonderful gifts," I said when we had finally finished opening them all. "We appreciate each and every one of you, and we can't wait for you all to meet him."

Steve and his SEAL buddies started loading the stuff into our vehicles while I walked around talking to people, cramping all the while. At one point, Tom informed me that I looked pale and should probably sit down. He asked his fiancée to get me some water while I gratefully sank into a chair.

"Being pregnant is exhausting," I complained. "Is it hot in here to you?"

"Not really, but I hear that pregnant women are always hot." He reached out and felt for my radial pulse, looking at his watch as he measured my pulse. "Your heartrate is a little high."

"It's been high for a while."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "In the _hundreds_?"

My eyes widened in surprise. "No, not usually _that_ high. I'm probably dehydrated."

His fiancée returned with some water, and he sent her off again to see if she could find me some nuts as a quick protein-packed snack. "Probably. This should help." He handed me the water. "Do you want to go into the ER just in case? I can call ahead and let them know what's going on."

I waved the offer away and swallowed the water. "No, no. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I should be fine until then."

Before he could argue further, Steve returned and said that the stuff was loaded up and asked me if I was ready to go home.

" _Very_ ," I answered. "I'm so ready to put my feet up and just relax for a bit. I've been on my feet way too much today."

"Oh, come on," Tom teased me. "Everybody knows that psychiatrists just sit behind a desk all day and write prescriptions for various cocktails of drugs."

"You got me."

We told him goodbye and then headed out into the parking lot, where Steve looked at me with a fair amount of concern. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I reassured him. "It's just Braxton Hicks contractions. Totally normal for the third trimester."

"If you're sure."

He didn't seem convinced.

Once at my car, I kissed him and then slid behind the wheel. "I'm sure. I'll see you at home. Maybe stop and pick up some apple juice, okay? I drank the last of it this morning and I think I'll want some to rehydrate myself while I'm resting."

He nodded and leaned down to kiss me. "Okay. I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you."

"Love you, too."

I drove away, looking forward to going home, crawling under the covers, and just having a peaceful evening.

 _Steve_

Apple juice tucked under my arm, I made my way to the door, locking my vehicle behind me as I also dug for the key to the house. There had only been one cashier working, and apparently the grocery store had been the hot place to go on a Thursday evening. Bailey was probably wondering if I'd crashed on the way home.

Dreading having to bring all of the baby shower gifts inside, I fitted the key into the lock, twisted, and then pushed the door open.

That's when I heard the scream.

 _Bailey_.

I roughly set the apple juice on the counter as I rushed towards the bedroom, ready to wake her from the nightmare that she'd likely been having.

When I saw that she wasn't in the bed, I froze.

Then, she screamed again, the sound radiating from the closed bathroom door.

"Bailey!" I sprinted to the door and tried to push it open, only to find that it was locked. "Bailey, let me in!"

"No!" Her voice was strained, filled with so much pain. "You can't! Just…" Her words fell away as she once again screamed in pain, sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

Without a second thought, I used my shoulder to push the door open.

The blood all over the bathroom seemed to swim before my eyes as my heart began to try to beat its way out of my chest.

And when I saw…

I knew that I had just experienced the greatest tragedy of my life.

And at that moment, I broke.


	15. What Went Wrong

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am really enjoying writing this, and that's why I especially love getting reviews and messages that express how much you're enjoying it. Keep the encouragement coming!**

 **First of all, I want to apologize for my brief absence. I went on vacation last week, had a work conference this week, and I found a new addiction. Any Game of Thrones enthusiasts here? One of my readers suggested it to me and once I started watching, I couldn't stop. I've even managed to catch up in time to watch the final episode with everyone else and I CANNOT WAIT. Give me all of your theories, if you're a fan. I want to know what everyone thinks.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, a fair warning: This chapter contains a possible trigger to some people. In no way do I get graphic about it, but the insinuation is certainly there. You'll know when it starts to happen, so please just stop reading if you think that it will bother you.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Fifteen: What Went Wrong**

 _Steve_

"Steve!" Sarah threw herself into my arms with a giggle that warmed my heart. "You came back! I knew you would."

It had become something of a pattern, my visits to Bailey's house. I came for dinner, helped clean up and put the kids to bed, and then left before Bailey and I had too much time alone. Ever since the near-kiss, I had been telling myself that I should just stay away… I just hadn't found the strength quite yet.

"Come in," the sole feature of my dreams at night said from the doorway. "We just finished up the pancakes."

The distance in her eyes and voice made my heart ache, but I forced myself to smile widely as I turned my gaze back to Sarah. "Wow! You made pancakes?"

The girl – unaware that anything was amiss – nodded with pride. "I did. Mommy helped a little."

Bailey rolled her eyes at the words, but smiled. "Come on, darling. Let's go and eat."

Ethan also hugged me once I'd entered the kitchen. We chatted for a couple of minutes about school, and then Bailey announced that everything was on the table and we should dig in before the pancakes got cold.

Sarah took my hand and led me to the seat beside hers, chattering all the while about all of the different kinds of pancakes that they'd made.

"I like to get the banana ones and put the strawberry syrup on top," she announced as she indeed served herself a banana pancake. "And whip cream, of course."

"Of course," I agreed with a grin.

" _Whipped_ cream," Bailey gently corrected her as she offered the red can. "Be careful with it, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy."

Ethan engaged me in conversation about my job, and Sarah talked to her mom about the book that they were reading in class. Bailey and I didn't really speak, which was how it had been ever since the near-kiss. I hated it, but I was holding out hope that time would heal that wound, just as it had healed all of the others.

After dinner, I volunteered to do the cleaning so that Bailey could give the kids a bath. She took me up on it and I moved around her kitchen as if it was my own, aware of where everything was. A part of me was jealous of Jacob – of everything that he had that he likely took for granted. He was married to the most incredible woman that had ever lived, he lived in a great house with her, and he had two wonderful children that missed him while he was gone.

I wanted that. _All_ of that.

Pushing the negative thoughts from my mind, I scrubbed at the griddle. My job was to clean, not ponder my envy of Jacob Addison.

"Sarah wants you to read her a bedtime story."

I looked up to see Bailey leaning against the wall, a small smile on her face. Her wavy hair had been pulled into a haphazard bun, the few tendrils framing her face soaked with water. The blue of her eyes reminded me of the waters by my favorite fishing spot.

"I tried to convince her to just let _me_ read to her," she continued. "But she insists."

Smiling, I dried my hands off on the dish towel. "She has good taste."

Something in Bailey's expression shifted, but she hid it before I could fully analyze it. She'd become incredibly talented at that in the days and weeks following the death of our first and only child. I had always hated it.

"I'll just go and read to her, then," I said and headed for the stairs, regret trying to tug me back to Bailey.

 _For what purpose?_ I asked myself. _Am I supposed to grab her and shake some sense into her and beg her to talk to me?_

Sarah was waiting in bed, two books clutched in her small hands. When she saw me come in, she smiled widely and held them out to me. "I picked good ones at the library today. One of them is about a cop. It made me think about you."

Touched, I placed a hand over my chest. "How sweet. I'm sure it'll be fantastic. Shall we start?"

So, I read her the two books (with her "assistance", of course) and then set them aside as I tucked her in.

"Sleep well, princess," I told her as I watched her burrow even deeper beneath the thick comforter, just as her mother had used to do. I felt my throat tighten around the rest of the words in my mouth.

"Night, Steve," she said, the words ending in a yawn.

I left the room, shutting the door after I had flicked off the light.

At the landing, I paused and looked over the railing and into the living room directly below. Bailey was down there, picking up odds and ends that her children had left behind. Her movements were smooth and full of grace, and her lilting voice carried up to me as she sang some children's song.

 _I should have had this_ , I thought before I could help myself. _I should be able to go down there and pull my wife into my arms and kiss her. I should be able to look forward to going to bed with her every night and waking up next to her every morning. Those should be_ our _kids that I just put to bed._

 _Where did it all go wrong?_

 _Bailey_

"Sarah's in bed."

I jumped at the sudden sound of Steve's voice, dropping the remote that I'd been moving.

"Sorry." He scooped it up and held it out to me as I turned, his smile small and cautious.

Things had been so tense between us ever since the near-kiss, but neither of us had ever decided to talk about it. I knew that we needed to eventually… I just didn't know how. I felt like acknowledging it would make it real in a way that terrified me.

"Thank you." I took the remote and returned it to its rightful place, grappling for something to say to him. I settled for, "Thank you for putting Sarah to bed. She adores you."

"The feeling is mutual," he said, and his smile turned just a touch more genuine. "She's an incredible girl. Much like her mother."

I did not care for the pull that I suddenly felt. For the desire to go to him, throw myself into his arms, and give in. It was stronger than it should have been after so much time apart, and I hated myself for that weakness.

When I turned away, I felt him step closer – as if we were magnets and I had pulled him right along with me.

"Bailey."

My name fell from his lips in a sad murmur, full of regret and… longing? Something so raw that I felt it grate against my heart.

"Don't," I choked out and the couch in front of me blurred behind the tears in my eyes.

"Bailey, I can't do this. I just got you back. Don't let me lose you again."

Unaware that I was even doing it, I spun around, hands clenched into fists. So many emotions were bubbling beneath the surface that I released them without a second thought, the tears streaming steadily down my cheeks.

"You shouldn't have lost me the first time!" I was shaking with my anger. "You weren't there! You weren't there and I _needed_ you!"

His face betrayed his sorrow, and his voice shook with emotion as he said, "I know that I wasn't there as I should have been. I threw myself into the teams because I… I wanted to help someone that way that I failed to help you and…" He had to stop and draw a deep breath, blinking back tears. "The way that I couldn't help Nathaniel."

The sound of our son's name struck me to the core and I collapsed onto the couch, sobbing now. But when Steve stepped forward and reached for me, I held out my hand to stop him. "You… weren't… there…"

My words hurt him; I could see it on his face. "I know, Bailey. I just… I just needed some time away from everything."

"But _I_ needed _you_!"

I could see that my words had cut him to the core.

 _Did he really never consider that_?

Slowly, as if afraid that I might bolt, he stepped closer and reached out for me. "Oh, Bailey." The sorrow in his words matched my own. "I'm so sorry."

I broke down then and he closed the distance between us to pull me into his arms there on the couch. There, I felt safe and comforted. There, I belonged. I was able to cry – to feel – without judgment.

When I'd calmed somewhat, he murmured into my hair. "You told me that you were fine with me remaining in the teams. You told me that you needed time to yourself. But I should have known that you were just trying to be strong. I thought you were okay because you went back to trauma counseling and you were going through the steps, but…"

"But I was broken," I finished, my words a whisper against his neck. "I lost our son."

"Bailey, no." His arms tightened around me. "It wasn't your fault. You heard what the doctor said – you did nothing wrong. It was a freak thing."

"There's nothing that anyone could say to make me feel less guilty." I took a deep breath. "No amount of counseling is ever going to change that. It's just something that I've had to learn to live with."

"Me, too."

His confession both saddened and strengthened me.

"He was so perfect." My words came out a whisper. When Steve didn't respond, I continued. "He never took a single breath, but he was so perfect. So little."

"He looked like me." Steve's voice broke and I could hear how hard it was for him to fight back the tears. "I couldn't look in the mirror for weeks. I hated myself."

"I know."

I remembered watching him in those first few weeks, saddened by his anxiety and pain. He had resigned himself to staying strong – I hadn't seen him break down outside of the hospital. He had been the one to answer the door whenever someone came by with food or a care package. I had let him handle all of the conversations because I hadn't trusted myself to say more than a few words without decomposing into sobs.

He'd been there so well… and then he had left.

When he'd asked me what I thought about him remaining with the SEALs, I had said yes right away. I'd thought that he needed that – as if, somehow, his service would help him to overcome what had happened to him. To us. But he had thrown himself into it with renewed vigor and took extra assignments for good measure. He was hardly ever home, and the house had seemed far too big for me.

In his absence, I had withdrawn into myself so severely that I had begun to wonder if it even mattered if I kept living. As a psychiatrist, I knew the signs… knew that I was suicidal. Knew that I needed help. I had been so resistant to get it, afraid of facing what had happened.

I had met Jacob at grief counseling. My private therapist had suggested doing a group therapy session focused on grief, and I had reluctantly agreed. On my first visit, Jacob had been there and had talked openly about the death of his twin brother. He'd died in combat, and Jacob had a lot of decisions to make. We'd talked long after the meeting had ended and, well… the rest was history.

Jacob had been there for me while Steve had been off by himself, trying to figure things out.

In the end, I had decided that our relationship had no future because we didn't know how to deal with the trauma together.

Now, after all these years, we were finally talking about it.

Rotten timing.

What felt like hours later, Steve pressed his forehead to the top of my head and murmured, "You need to get some sleep."

"So do you."

There was a smile in his voice. "You first."

"I don't want to be alone."

I was terrified of the emotions still swirling inside me, terrified that the nightmares would come back and swallow me whole without anyone there to comfort me.

"You don't have to be."

Pulling away slightly, I looked up at his dear face and saw compassion as well as love that had never faded.

"I don't know what you're offering."

His lips quirked ever so slightly. "I'm offering to stay with you tonight."

"Like a sleepover?"

"Only if we can have a pillow fight."

I gently slapped his shoulder and then moved to stand, a bit unsteady on my feet after having sat in his lap for so long. "I don't do pillow fights. You should know this."

"I suppose that I can make an exception." He stood, smiling now. "Just this once, though."

His offer was heavy in the air, and I knew that I should say no. If it was Jacob in my place and a woman was offering to spend the night with him, I would have wanted him to say no. To tell her that his wife wouldn't approve and it wouldn't be right.

But in my weakness, I capitulated. "Okay. Stay, then."

He followed me up the stairs and looked around the room while I went into the bathroom to change into pajamas and wash my face. I found a spare toothbrush while I was in there, and we brushed our teeth side by side.

When we climbed into bed, I was almost stunned at how natural it felt after so much time. I had expected it to feel awkward, but we adjusted to each other easily. Almost as if we hadn't spent any time apart at all.

Steve hadn't reached out to hold me, so I kept to my side, ignoring the desperate call from my body for his arms and his protection. Having him near was enough to relax me, and I knew that he could help me keep the nightmares at bay.

"I set an alarm for five tomorrow morning," he said, his voice a murmur in the dark. "I'll try to be out of here before the kids wake up."

"That's probably for the best."

Not that they would suspect anything, but I didn't want to have to explain myself to them. Or, worse, end up needing to explain myself to Jacob because they blabbed about seeing Steve leave our house early in the morning.

"You sure you don't want to have a pillow fight?"

I smiled and blushed, glad for the darkness. "Go to sleep, Steve."

He chuckled. "Good night, Bailey."

Though I'd been certain that it would take me at least an hour to drift off, I was asleep within minutes.

 _Steve_

When I woke up the next morning, it was to Bailey in my arms, her breath fanning against my shoulder.

 _Damnit,_ I cursed myself.

I had promised that I wouldn't hold her. That I wouldn't do anything that could come between her and her husband.

 _You crossed that line when you offered to stay_.

With the guilt trying to drown me, I snuck out of the bed without waking Bailey.

The house was all quiet as I made my way downstairs and then out to my truck, where I could finally take a deep breath and beat myself up aloud.

"If Danny ever finds out, he's going to have a heart attack," I muttered as I drove away with everything in my body begging me to go back.


	16. A Heartbreaking Reality

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am really enjoying writing this, and that's why I especially love getting reviews and messages that express how much you're enjoying it. Keep the encouragement coming!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, a fair warning: This chapter contains a possible trigger to some people. In no way do I get graphic about it, but the insinuation is certainly there. You'll know when it starts to happen, so please just stop reading if you think that it will bother you.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Sixteen: A Heartbreaking Reality**

 **Ten Years Ago**

 _Steve_

"How about a burger before we go our separate ways?" Carson asked me, pointing to the diner up ahead.

My stomach rumbled as an image of a perfectly grilled, juicy beef patty with all of the toppings came to mind.

Carson laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." With a flick of his wrist, he steered his truck into the parking lot. It was just past eleven, which meant that the diner would be closing soon and, as such, there wasn't a lot of traffic.

"Isn't that your wife's car?"

Sure enough, I spotted Bailey's car at the end of the row.

"I guess she got tired of cooking."

"Or you've just been gone for too long and she wanted to be around other people."

We _had_ been on the op for three weeks – twice as long as I had told Bailey I would be gone.

Still, I shook my head. "She's around other people all day at her job. Usually, she wants to come home and have some peace and quiet."

"Maybe she'll let us sit with her anyway." Carson's smile faltered slightly. "How's she doing, really? It's been, what…"

"Seven months."

As I said it aloud, I was struck by the weight of those months. The weight that I had been ignoring by jetting to the farthest corners of the world on dangerous ops. But there, in that parking lot, it was impossible to ignore the fact that – if he had lived – Nathaniel would have been seven(ish) months old by now.

"Steve?"

I came back to reality and tried to force a smile. "Sorry. I think we're both just doing our best right now. It doesn't really get easier, but we're learning how to deal with it."

"Maybe we can just sit on our own and let her deal with it, then." Carson got out and I followed his lead, preceding him through the door into the diner.

A young woman with tired brown eyes and a sloppy blonde ponytail smiled at us as she approached. "Just the two of you?" It was obvious – though she tried to hide it – that she was very much looking forward to closing time.

"Yes," I answered her politely. "A booth, please."

She grabbed two menus and then led us to the section on the right, where only two other spots were occupied – one by an older man finishing off his coffee as he read a thick book, and the other by my wife.

Except… she wasn't alone.

"Do you know him?" Carson murmured from behind me even as I tried to place him in my mind.

He was maybe an inch or two shorter than me (it was hard to tell for certain with him sitting down), and dressed in jeans and a gray NAVY tee. His hair was a darker shade of blonde than Bailey's, and his eyes seemed to be dark, though it was hard to tell with the less-than-stellar diner lighting.

"I don't know," I murmured back to Carson. "Maybe a relative? Cousin or something?"

The waitress seated us at a booth on the opposite side of them, and back far enough that we hadn't drawn their attention. Which was good, I thought. That gave me more time to study them.

"Coffee and water," I requested, and then pretended to peruse my menu as I watched them.

Bailey's back was towards me, but I recognized the defeated curve of her shoulders. She felt tired and/or defeated. And the man across from her appeared to be an avid listener, nodding his head and occasionally murmuring something.

"Steve?"

I reluctantly turned my attention to Carson, who gestured to the waitress that had at some point returned to the table to take our orders.

"Sorry," I said. "I'll have the cheeseburger with everything on it."

"Fries okay?" she asked me as she scribbled my order down on her crowded pad.

"Yeah, fine."

"Okay." She took the menus and then left, and I returned my attention to my wife's booth.

"You don't recognize him?" Carson asked me as he, too, glanced over their way.

I shook my head, certain now. "I haven't ever seen him before. Do you think that he's _in_ the Navy, or that he just happens to have that shirt?"

Carson looked him over speculatively. "He looks fit. Has the short haircut. Sits in that way that military people do. I wouldn't be surprised if he was."

"Not a SEAL, though."

"No."

I took my eyes off of them long enough to take a few sips of my coffee, grimacing at the taste. "That's almost as bad as the coffee on base."

"Eh," Carson said as he sipped his own sludge. "It's the end of the night. They're not going to make a fresh pot, if they can help it. You should just go over there and talk to her, you know."

"Huh?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Bailey. Just go over there and tell her that you're home. Ask her who the guy is. You're her husband; you kind of have a right to know who she's hanging out with so late at night while you're gone."

"She's not cheating on me."

I said it with absolute certainty because I _knew_ Bailey. She never could have been the cheating type. But did that mean that I wasn't a little bit jealous and a _whole lot_ curious? No. I was very much interested in who the guy was and what they were doing together at a diner so late at night.

"I didn't say she was. I just said that you should go and talk to her. It would, at the very least, calm some of that curiosity that's got you so worked up."

That, it would.

"I want to watch a little more."

He looked as though he wanted to argue, but ultimately closed his mouth and decided against it. We both watched them – me far more than him – until our burgers arrived and, even then, I kept my eye on them.

They were just talking, sitting across the table from one another. I couldn't see Bailey's expressions, but the man's ranged from sympathetic to sad. I had a feeling that I knew exactly what they were talking about, and I didn't like it.

When the waitress came back to make sure that we had everything that we needed, Carson asked her, "Excuse me, are you the waitress for that couple over there?" He pointed towards Bailey's booth.

She glanced over at it and then smiled slightly and shook her head at Carson. "They're not a couple. I made that mistake a couple of weeks ago."

Carson's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but that was nothing compared to how I felt. "A couple of weeks ago?"

"Yeah," she answered, unaware of our exchanged look of surprise and curiosity. "They've been coming in here every single night since then. They get coffee, share a plate of cheese fries with bacon, and each have a slice of pie. They usually stay for two or three hours."

The infamous green-eyed monster reared its ugly head and I stood before I even realized that I had, making my way over to their table. Carson called out to me, but I ignored him, driven purely by instinct.

"Bailey."

Her head snapped up at my voice and I could tell that she was quite surprised to see me. "Steve. You're back."

But she didn't jump up and hug me. Her smile was smaller than I would have expected. It was like she was happy to see me, but also… not. Like we were just a couple of people that didn't really know each other all that well. Hell, maybe that was true after everything that had happened.

"I am." I turned my attention to the man sitting across from her and held out my hand. "Steve McGarrett. Bailey's husband."

"Nice to meet you," he said as he stood and took my hand in a firm shake. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm Jacob Addison."

When I released his hand, I gestured to his shirt as he sat back down. "You're in the Navy?"

"Yes, sir," he responded. "Aviation Rescue Swimmer right now, but I hope to test for the SEALs this next cycle."

"Interesting. So, how did you two meet?"

I kept my eyes on Jacob, which was why I noticed the slight worried widening of his eyes as he slid them to Bailey, deferring to her. As if he was worried about saying too much – or the wrong thing – to me.

How very interesting.

It was Bailey that answered, her voice soft and morose as she spoke into the depths of her coffee mug. "We met at grief counseling."

Her words hit me with more force than an RPG ever could. "Grief counseling?"

"Yes, Steve." She set her coffee cup aside and looked up at me, anger and sadness brewing a storm in her blue eyes. "It's what people that want to heal do after they experience a trauma."

 _Instead of running away_. She didn't say it, but it was there in her eyes and her head.

Jacob spoke quickly, trying to ease the tension (as if that were even possible). "They have group counseling on base. We got put into a small group together on Bailey's first day and started talking afterwards. The talking… it's helpful."

"And what's _your_ grief?"

"Steve," Bailey snapped at me. "You can't just ask someone you don't know to talk about their trauma."

"It's okay," Jacob rushed to say and then answered me. "My twin brother… he was also in the Navy and he… he died in combat."

Sadness warred with the jealousy inside of me. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks." Jacob sighed. "The counseling is helping, though. And I…" he hesitated. "I'm sorry about your son."

Nodding, I took that punch in the gut and then addressed Bailey. "I guess I'll see you at home."

"Okay."

Carson was waiting for me back at our booth, his curiosity obviously piqued. "What happened? Who's the guy?"

"Jacob Addison. He's a rescue swimmer with the Navy. They met at _grief counseling_."

After several moments of silence, Carson asked me, "Are you all right?"

I wanted so badly to say yes. But I couldn't fight the fear and dread that were slowly consuming me.

"I can't help but feel that Bailey and I are drawing near to the end."

Adamantly, Carson shook his head. "No, man. You and Bailey are for life. You guys have the truest kind of love. What happened to you guys is horrible, yes, but if anyone can get through something like that, it's you two."

His words _felt_ true, yes, but… the certainty that something terrible was going to happen felt stronger.

 _Bailey_

"Are you going to be okay?"

Concern was etched on Jacob's face as we stood beside my car, the lights of the diner the only source illuminating the area.

"Steve's a naturally jealous person, but he knows that I would never cheat on him. And he would never hurt me, even if that _were_ the case."

"Physically, no." Jacob looked like he very much wanted to say something, but felt like maybe he shouldn't.

"Say it," I requested. His honesty had been so refreshing these last few weeks.

It had been so nice to have someone to talk to. _Really_ talk to. Other people asked me how I was or if I needed anything, but they didn't understand what that grief was truly like. And if I told them, I knew they'd want to go and bury their head in the sand to get away from it.

But Jacob… Jacob had just lost his brother. Not only his brother, but his _twin_. An integral part of his life from day one. He'd literally never known life without his brother and now he was gone forever. Jacob understood that intense loss. And even better, he was willing to open up and talk about it.

Steve… wasn't.

Steve wanted to throw himself into the SEALs, to help people the way that he hadn't been able to help Nathaniel. But just because I understood that, didn't mean that I approved of it. Anytime that I tried to bring it up, he would just tell me that it wasn't a good time to talk about it.

We were falling apart.

"He's hurting you emotionally. Running off to the other side of the world instead of staying here so that the two of you can get through this _together_ …" He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "It's probably not really my place to say so, but I've always been of the opinion that the greatest thing about marriage is that you have someone to get through the difficult stuff _with_."

"That _is_ one of the best parts of marriage," I answered. "At least, it's _supposed_ to be."

The sadness in Jacob's eyes was nothing compared to my own. "He's not getting through this _with_ you, Bailey. I don't even think he's really getting through it _at all_. And he certainly hasn't been here to help _you_ get through it."

"I am, though." I hated admitting it, almost like getting through it would somehow be a betrayal to Nathaniel. That was something that I battled with every single day. "I'm getting through it."

"You are," he agreed. "And I don't want him to make you feel guilty for that."

"He wouldn't. Not on purpose."

"It doesn't _have_ to be on purpose."

I could see his point, but there was no way that I could avoid it. Steve and I were still married, and we shared a life. We shared a trauma. "I still have to go home."

"Okay."

I forced myself to smile. "I'll text you tomorrow morning and let you know how everything went."

"Call if you need me before then."

"I will."

He opened my door for me, watched me slide inside, and then shut it behind me. The expression on his face told me that he thought going home to face Steve was a horrible idea, and he might have been right. But I still had to go.

The drive home felt like an inmate's walk down death row. There was a sense of foreboding that only got worse with each passing mile, and part of me desperately wanted to just go to a hotel or a friend's house for the night. Maybe things would look better in the sunlight.

But I knew that avoiding the problem would only make it worse.

I pulled into the garage and steeled myself for what was to come. I prayed that Steve would already be in bed, but I knew that wasn't the case. He would be waiting up for me so that we could talk. But I had no idea what he was going to say.

He was sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in, staring down at the fresh cup of coffee in his hands. He didn't look up, but I knew that he'd heard me come in – his SEAL training would have seen to that.

Buying myself a few moments, I got a mug down from the cabinet and poured myself some of the coffee that Steve had made. It smelled lovely, but I didn't feel that usual eagerness to drink it. All that I felt was the diner food curdling in my stomach. Still, I took a sip to fortify myself.

After what felt like forever, Steve looked up at me and I felt like throwing up when I realized that I couldn't read the expression in his eyes.

 _God, do I even know him at all anymore_?

"We need to talk," he said quietly.

I nodded and moved to sit across from him at the table, cradling the mug of coffee. "Yeah," I said with a sigh. "I guess we do."

His dark eyes grew sad as he asked me, "Did you want to start, or do you want me to?"

My own sadness grew and grew until it threatened to swallow me whole.

But I couldn't let it.

Clearing the emotion from my throat, I answered. "I don't think it matters one way or another."

We both knew how this was going to end.

He nodded, his voice a whisper. "I'll go, then."

And he did.


	17. The Tough Conversations

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am really enjoying writing this, and that's why I especially love getting reviews and messages that express how much you're enjoying it. Keep the encouragement coming! You all are the best fans that anyone could have.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, just in case you haven't heard: Hawaii Five-O has been renewed for another season. I'm on the fence about that, but they didn't ask for my opinion, for some reason. What did you all think of the season finale?**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Seventeen: The Tough Conversations**

 _Bailey_

The call came in as I was entering my office, and I groaned in frustration as I hastily deposited my purse and coffee on the table near the door. Normally, I liked to arrive at my office an hour before I had to see my first patient, but Sarah had been dragging her feet about getting around that morning and I was running behind.

My phone continued to ring and I dug for it, cursing and making a mental note to clean out my purse later. Finally, I found it and slid the cursor before I even glanced at the number. "This is Dr. Addison."

"Hey, Bailey."

My heart stopped as I recognized Jacob's voice. He sounded tired, which was unsurprising after an op that had lasted as long as this one had. The important thing was that he was alive; it made my heart feel a bit lighter.

"Jacob. Where are you?"

There was a hesitation, and then he answered, "I can't really talk about that."

Just as quickly as my heart had begun to soar, it sank. "You're not calling because you're on your way home, then."

"No." He sighed, and I could picture him rubbing the back of his neck. "It's complicated. It was just a surveillance op, but now it's turned into an extraction. I can't give you any details."

"No, of course you can't."

I was surprised at how bitter the words sounded. I knew that his ops were classified; that had never bothered me before. But him being away for weeks at a time and then calling to tell me that he was going to be away even longer? That had always bothered me, especially after we'd had our children.

"Don't be like that," he reasoned. "They're bringing in a new team, but they needed someone from our original surveillance team to join in."

Fire bubbled beneath my skin. "Oh, so you _volunteered_. You weren't _assigned_."

His silence was all of the answer that I really needed. He had to know that I was incredibly angry. What wife and mother _wouldn't_ be, after a confession like that? I wanted to throw something across the room, but I took a deep breath instead.

He rushed to fill the silence. "It should only be a couple of weeks."

"That's what you said this time." To distract myself, I moved my things over to my desk and began logging into my computer. I still had patients to see, and only about fifteen minutes before the first one. I couldn't let Jacob make me fall even more behind.

"I don't know what you want me to say, babe." Now, Jacob's voice held a hint of defensiveness. "You knew what I was when you married me. Hell, you'd been married to one _before_. You know that this is just the job."

I hated when he did that – when he tried to use his job as an excuse for his behavior.

"I also know that you promised to get out of the SEALs after Ethan was born. And again after Sarah. But every single time that I bring it up, you act like you have no recollection of ever uttering those words."

"This again," he muttered under his breath.

Somehow, I kept my voice at a reasonable volume. "Yes, Jacob, _this_ again. Because I don't think that you _get it_. You're not here, but _I_ am. _I_ get to hold Sarah every single day while she cries and asks when her father is coming home. _I_ watch Ethan trying to be strong, but I know how much it hurts him to not have you here. They need their _father_ , Jacob, not a Navy SEAL."

There was real anger in his voice when he said, "Stop trying to guilt trip me. You know I love my kids."

"I believe that. But this _job_ of yours is tearing our family apart, and you don't even see it."

"That's not fair. _You_ work a lot, too."

Barely biting back a snarky remark, I responded. "That's not the same thing, and you know that. I work long hours – as most physicians do – but I'm home every night. I'm not halfway around the world dancing around bullets and grenades."

He ignored that completely. "Put one of the kids on the phone."

I rolled my eyes, though he wasn't there to see. "The kids are at school, Jacob. It's almost eight in the morning here."

He cursed, and I heard a tired sigh. "I thought that I did the math right in my head. I'm sorry."

 _But not about the things that matter_ , I thought, but bit my tongue before I could say it. "I need to see my first patient in a few minutes. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

There was the smallest of pauses, and then he answered, "No. I don't think so."

"Okay." And even though I wasn't really feeling it at the moment, I said, "I love you. Be safe."

"Love you, too. You know I will."

And then he hung up and I set my phone aside and rested my face in my hands, blowing out a frustrated breath.

Being married to anyone in the military was extremely difficult, but being married to a Navy SEAL – or any special ops member, for that matter – was even more so. They went directly to the front lines… and sometimes, behind _enemy_ lines. The hardest missions, the most dangerous adversaries… and there was nothing you could do but sit at home and wait for them to come back.

My divorce with Steve had all gone rather quickly, but Jacob and I had only been friends throughout that entire process. A few months after the divorce was finalized, though, Jacob had asked me out to dinner as more than a friend. _"To see what might be between us,"_ he'd said.

The date had gone well, and soon there had been more. Being with Jacob had been so easy after all of the turmoil that had followed Nathaniel's death. Jacob understood my pain – and had been through his own tragedy – but we didn't share a trauma the way that Steve and I did. It was much more comfortable than it had been with Steve.

When Jacob had proposed to me after nearly a year of dating – and only a couple of months after he had finally become a Navy SEAL – I had accepted, with a few reservations that I had kept to myself. We'd gone to Vegas to elope, and then we had settled down in Virginia just as Steve had left. The plan had been for Jacob to move to an officer's position once we had kids… but that had obviously never actually happened.

After Ethan had been born, Jacob had said that he just wanted another year. That had turned into two, and then Sarah had been born and he had said that he would resign when his contract was up. But then he had renewed it, and I'd always had the feeling that they would have to kick him out, because he would never leave.

It was his decision, I supposed, but it made me a little sick to my stomach to think that we weren't enough to make him want to give up the danger of such a demanding job. Surely time with us was more rewarding than doing surveillance in a far corner of the world?

It would be for me, anyway.

The phone on my desk rang and I took a few deep breaths before I answered with my usual, "Dr. Addison."

"Good morning," Bonnie, my nurse, said in a voice that was far too cheerful for the mood that I was in. "I've got your first patient ready for you."

Guiltily, I realized that I didn't even know who my first patient was going to be. I hadn't had a moment to look at my list for the day.

"Okay, great," I said and quickly opened up my patient list for the day. "You can go ahead and send them in."

"Perfect!" She hung up.

More quickly than I had ever done so, I scanned the info of the patient, committing the most important parts to memory.

 _Arthur Reese. Mechanic. Treating for depression. Prozac. Responding well to treatment._

Just as I finished downloading that information into my brain, the door opened and Arthur walked in. "Bonnie said that you were ready for me."

Pasting a smile onto my face, I rose and gestured for him to come in. "I am. Go ahead and take any seat you like."

"Thanks." He shut the door behind him and then moved for the loveseat. "How are you today?"

"I'm… good. A little bit of a rough morning, honestly." I always encouraged my patients to be honest with me, so I tried to be appropriately honest with them in return. "Just a hectic start. What about you?"

And so, we talked, and it took every ounce of my willpower to remain focused on my patient and not on all of the problems that were waiting for me outside the door.

More than anything, I found my mind wandering to Steve.

I had no doubt in my mind that he would have allowed his contract to end with the SEALs, just as he had said that he would once Nathaniel was born. Steve was a man that kept his word, no matter what. A man that did the right thing, even when it was extremely hard. A man that sought justice – and what could be more admirable? He'd left the SEALs to head up a task force that cut through the red tape and got things done.

 _Not a good line of thought, Bailey_.

Right.

 _God, why did I ever let Steve McGarrett back into my life?_

Because now that he was back… I didn't know if I could ever let him walk back out.

 _Steve_

"Everyone else has already gone home."

I glanced up at the door, where Danny was leaning against the glass with a concerned expression on his face.

"Yeah, I know," I lied. I hadn't been paying any attention to the comings and goings of the others. Instead, I had been trying to finish reports. Which had been damn near impossible, because the only thing on my mind was Bailey.

"Do you?" Danny's expression told me that he was well aware that I was lying.

Damn.

"It's been a long day."

"You don't have to tell _me_." He stepped further into my office and dropped down into one of the two chairs in front of my desk. "I was there."

"Yes, you were. And you were _very_ helpful, too," I said, much as one would try to placate a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. "You drove up right at the _perfect_ angle after I had chased the guy down and pinned him."

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated, Steven."

No, but maybe it would distract him from what I didn't want to talk about.

But… no such luck. "So, how are things going with you and Bailey? Is her husband back yet?"

"As of the last time we talked, he was not. In fact, I think he'll be staying wherever he is for a few more weeks."

Danny's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but I caught it. "And when was the last time that you talked to her?"

I could have tried to lie, but I had a feeling that he would have seen right through that, so I didn't. "Earlier this morning. I called to ask if she'd heard from Jacob, actually."

"Very considerate of you."

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to my computer. "I don't see what that has to do with anything, anyway."

"Oh, do you not?"

"Now who's being sarcastic?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

He spread his hands innocently. "Not me."

"Bailey and I are just friends that happen to have a history. We get along famously, and I adore her kids. But I have no intention or desire of ever getting in the middle of her marriage."

 _Not like he got into the middle of mine_ , I thought, but didn't say. For one, it really wasn't any of Danny's business. And two, it would have painted Bailey in a bad light, and I didn't want to do that. She really hadn't done anything wrong… it was a combination of both of our mistakes that had caused our relationship to end in divorce.

"I don't think that you have any intention of ruining their marriage," Danny informed me. "Just to get that out there. _But_ I _do_ think that you're toeing the line."

" _Toeing the line_?"

"Toeing the line," he repeated. "You go over there for dinner, you talk to her often throughout the day, last week you picked the kids up from school…"

"Bailey had a patient emergency," I protested. "It was one time."

"One time turns into more."

I closed the lid of my laptop and steepled my fingers, looking at him in a way that I hoped would convince him to back off. "You're saying that I shouldn't help out a friend in an emergency situation?"

"No. I'm saying that you're extremely close to someone that's supposed to be just a _friend_."

"You worry too much."

"I don't think so."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

It didn't work.

"Look, Steve, I'm always here for you, I've always got your back… no matter what. I just want you to think very long and _very_ hard about this thing with Bailey. You're clearly still in love with her, and I wouldn't be surprised to discover that she was still in love with you, too. But she married Jacob for a reason."

"She married Jacob because he was there when I wasn't, and because it was hard to be around me after what happened to…" I abruptly shut my mouth, nearly cursing. I hadn't told Danny about my son. Hadn't told anyone outside of those that were already aware of the situation.

I didn't know if I even _wanted_ to tell Danny at any point.

But he leaned forward, curiosity lighting his face. "What happened to who?"

Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "It's complicated."

"I didn't realize that something happened to someone," he said. "I thought, you know… that you two just grew apart or something. Was it you or Bailey? Did someone get sick?"

All of the emotions that I always worked so hard to fight welled up and I felt the tears in my eyes. "No."

Danny's eyes widened when he saw the tears in mine. "Wow. That bad, huh?"

Unable to speak, I nodded.

His expression softened. "Steve, you don't have to tell me anything. But I'm always here for you and I'm perfectly willing to lend a listening ear. With no sarcastic comments, I promise."

Before I could even finish contemplating whether or not I wanted to tell him, the words were rushing out of my mouth. "Bailey got pregnant unexpectedly, but we were very happy about it. I was planning to let my contract expire and take up a training position after he arrived, but… But he didn't make it. For reasons that no doctor was able to explain to us, he died a few weeks before his due date. Bailey still had to deliver him."

It was silent for a few minutes, for which I was grateful. I needed some time to compose myself – to keep from crying.

When he knew that I'd had enough time, he spoke with sympathy soaking his words. "I'm so sorry, Steve. I can't even imagine what that must have been like."

"I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"I understand."

We were silent again, and then I opened my laptop up again. "I need to finish this report before I go home, but there's no need for you to stay. I'm sure you have better things to do than sit around here."

"Yeah." The sarcasm was back in his voice. "I have a TV tray dinner waiting for me at home." He made his way to the door and then glanced back. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," I agreed, and watched him leave.

Then, I grabbed my phone.

There was one voice that could ease my pain.

"Hello?" she answered, sounding exhausted.

"How about I bring some dessert by?"

"That sounds heavenly."


	18. So Complicated

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am really enjoying writing this, and that's why I especially love getting reviews and messages that express how much you're enjoying it. Keep the encouragement coming! You all are the best fans that anyone could have.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, just in case you haven't heard: Hawaii Five-O has been renewed for another season. I'm on the fence about that, but they didn't ask for my opinion, for some reason. What did you all think of the season finale?**

 **One more thing before we get into the story (I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I think you'll like this piece of news). I have decided to write a story about what happens after the events of the season finale. I've already started writing it, and I plan to have it all done before the next season is released. The first chapter is going out later today, so please check that out! The title is:** _ **The Great In-Between**_ **.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Eighteen: So Complicated**

 _Steve_

"This is crazy," she said as I opened the door of my truck for her.

"Crazy is good sometimes."

" _Sometimes_ ," she agreed and gracefully climbed into my truck. "What, exactly, is your plan here?"

"You need a break. You've been working and taking care of the kids and the house and everything else while Jacob has been gone. We're just going to go and explore the island."

She watched me close her door and walk around to my side, smiling at me as I climbed into the driver's seat.

"You really don't have to do this."

"But I _want_ to. Besides, you're helping me out, too. If I wasn't taking you around the island, I'd just be sitting at home with a can of beer and sports on the TV. It's Danny's weekend with Grace, Kono is off with her boyfriend, Chin had plans with some of his other buddies, and Lou is taking his wife out for her birthday."

With a teasing smile, she asked, "You only have four friends?"

"Five, counting you." I grinned at her and then put the truck in gear. "Ready?"

With one more glance to the house, she nodded and we took off. She had called one of the kids' normal babysitters to come for the night, but I knew that it was still hard for her to leave them for an entire evening. Especially with Jacob still gone. The kids missed him terribly, and it broke Bailey's heart.

Even though I knew that I probably shouldn't allow my mind to head down that road, I couldn't help but wonder if _she_ actually missed him. Sure, it was challenging for her to handle everything by herself, but she was excelling at it. And every single time that she mentioned Jacob being gone, it was in reference to her kids missing him. She never said anything about _her_ missing him. Was it because she didn't want to hurt my feelings… or was it because she didn't miss him as much as one would expect a wife to miss her husband?

She loved him; I knew that much. I had seen them together, and I knew that she never would have married him if she didn't love him. But… how much? Was it possible that the love that she had for me – the love that we had for _each other_ – was stronger than her love for Jacob? Joe had once told me that Bailey, in my absence, had eagerly accepted the love and compassion from someone that was simply _there_. My theory was that Jacob was _comfortable_ for her.

Of course, I could have been entirely off base.

" _You're_ having some deep thoughts."

At Bailey's only half-teasing statement, I glanced over to find her watching me intently. I wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest if she'd told me that she knew exactly what I'd been thinking.

"Just wondering how much we can fit into five hours."

"Knowing you," she said with a pointed glance at the speedometer, "a lot."

"Did Danny call you and tell you to make a comment about the way that I drive?"

She laughed. "No. I believe that I've been commenting on your terrible driving far longer than your partner."

"That's true," I conceded. "But I _do_ disagree with your use of the word ' _terrible_ '. Perhaps…" I thought for a moment, " _speedy_ would be a more accurate-"

Of course, right at that moment, the light changed and a car sped past. Instinctively, I hit my brakes hard and threw out my arm to keep Bailey from slamming forward too hard. It all happened in a split second, and I found myself looking to Bailey to make certain that she was unharmed and not too frightened.

She was, indeed, unharmed.

In fact, she was _laughing_.

When she'd finished with her laughter, she looked over at me, a challenge in her eyes. "You were saying?"

"Nothing," I grumbled and depressed the accelerator as the light turned green. "I wasn't saying a damn thing."

That sent her into another fit of laughter, and I was barely able to suppress my own smile. Being with her in that moment felt just as effortless as it always had. My heart both ached and rejoiced with it.

"We're stopping at an island classic for dinner before we hit the big spots," I informed her as we pulled into the parking lot at Kamekona's shrimp truck.

Bailey's eyebrow arched in surprise as she took in the big yellow truck. "A _food truck_? _That's_ your island classic?"

Smiling, I opened my door. "It doesn't look like much, but trust me, you'll enjoy it."

"If you say so."

She joined me in the line, and I made my recommendations as she continued to eye the truck with thinly veiled skepticism. Finally, the line cleared and we made it to the front to find Flippa behind the window. When he saw that it was me, he grinned widely.

"How's it, brotha?"

"Hey, Flippa. We want two of the garlic shrimp plates with two coconut waters, please."

At the word 'we', Flippa's eyes moved to Bailey and widened with interest, much to my annoyance. Of course she was beautiful and of course men would notice her. Especially with the way that the pale blue blouse hugged her curves and brought out the color of her eyes.

 _Back up, pal. Back up_.

I busied myself counting out the money as Flippa greeted Bailey and she warmly greeted him in return, ever well-mannered. It seemed that his flirting was going right over her head… until we sat down with our food.

"He comes on strong, doesn't he?" Her blue eyes were sparkling with mirth.

"If you think _that's_ bad, you should meet his cousin, Kamekona. He actually _owns_ the truck, and he's very… _confident_ in himself."

"Confidence can be a good thing," she reasoned.

I shook my head. "Not this kind."

"I'll take your word for it."

Mouth full of shrimp, I pointed my fork at her untouched plate. "Trust me, it's not as questionable as it looks. Try it."

Thankfully, she chose not to comment on my lack of manners and instead dug her fork into her food. She put a full forkful into her mouth and I smiled at the reminder that Bailey didn't do anything by halves. When she tried something, she did it right.

After swallowing, she gave me a smile that could only be described as _relieved_. "You're right. It's really good."

"Have I ever steered you wrong before?"

"Once, you took me to a steakhouse in Texas that you claimed served 'the best steak in all the land'. They served it to me raw and I had to send it back twice before they finally brought it out medium well."

I rolled my eyes at her. " _First of all_ , I told you that medium well is unacceptable. The acceptable way to eat a steak is medium and under. Secondly, _Carson_ recommended that restaurant. Apparently, his family used to go there all of the time while he was growing up. As a result of this incident, I trust Carson in everything save for food recommendations."

"The green beans tasted like they'd been simmering in sewage."

Again, I rolled my eyes. "You're being dramatic. And I told you that no one gets green beans as a side for steak. You get mashed potatoes and gravy, and steak fries. Everyone knows that."

"Sorry for trying to balance my diet."

"That was still a good night, though," I reminded her. "Remember? Carson told us about an old abandoned bowling alley where you have the best view of the stars."

Her eyes glazed over slightly, far away, and the corners of her mouth tugged up in a bittersweet smile. "That _was_ a great weekend getaway."

A loss so painful swept over me and I busied myself stuffing another bite of food into my mouth before I could say something that I knew I would regret. Talking about all of those sweet memories did nothing but make both of us incredibly sad.

"After we're done here," I finally said to break the silence, "we can go over to Manoa Falls. It's pure beauty. Then, I'll take you to get the best shaved ice on the island. Then… well… we'll see how much time we have left after that."

"Deal." She smiled, but there was still a hint of sadness to it.

I spent the next half hour telling her about Five-O's most recent case, hoping to get her mind off of all of the memories that I had so stupidly brought up. She joined in on the conversation, but she still seemed a little distant by the time that we had finished and thrown away our trash.

Back in the truck, I turned on some music and we chatted for a bit about unimportant things. Being with her still felt so easy, even after all of this time, and I wondered if she felt the same way. Surely, she did, for she seemed to be completely at ease once more, the memories pushed to the back of her mind.

I wondered if she ever dwelled on them as I did. When she had trouble sleeping, perhaps? When she had a moment of silence during her day at work? Did she see things that reminded her of me? Did she ever wonder how different things could have been if we'd never divorced? Because I certainly did.

Manoa Trails was as beautiful as ever, and there was a crowd of people there to witness it. Luckily, I knew the most beautiful areas off the beaten path. Unluckily, they involved a bit of a hike. Luckily again, Bailey had kept in great shape.

"Good thing we're going for snow cones after this," she teased as we crested a hill. "I deserve one after… Whoa…"

Grinning, I looked over at her. "What do you think?"

"It's… _beautiful_. That's not even the right word, actually. It's… _Wow_."

We stood looking down at a waterfall that was like something out of a painting, complete with mini rainbows arching from the water. Lush greenery surrounded it, sprinkled with flowers of all colors. Birds were fluttering this way and that, at peace in their own little paradise. It was the kind of place that you could just sit and enjoy for hours without growing bored.

"There are little pockets of paradise like this all over the island," I told her after a few moments to just soak everything in. "Hawaii is kind of magical like that."

She didn't look away from the waterfall. "I'm starting to see that."

"Do you want to get closer to the waterfall?" I pointed to her left. "There's a spot a bit closer that way."

But as she began to walk that way, her foot caught on something and she flew forward. I reacted quickly, grabbing her arm and jerking her back towards me, catching her around the middle as she collided with my chest, sending me staggering backwards for a moment.

Her eyes were wide, mouth slightly open in surprise. I could feel her heart beating, wild and erratic, though whether it was due to her near fall or my closeness to her, I didn't know.

"Sorry," I said, but it came out very soft, breathy. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering me, she took one mini step forward, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. Her blue eyes had darkened, and when she spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Steve…"

That was it. I'd had all that I could handle.

My hands came up of their own accord, one to tangle in the hair behind her head and the other to cup her face, tilting her head up so that our lips could meet. And when they did…

The world stopped spinning and we were alone in our own little portion of paradise. We were tangled together like we had been made just for this – for each other – and nothing could ever tear us apart. I held her close to my body, determined to hold her there forever. Our kisses were intense, with more emotions within them than I could ever hope to untangle.

Suddenly, a flock of birds was startled and made a great racket as they flew away, startling Bailey and I apart, both of us panting for air.

 _Oh, God_ , I internally groaned. _What have I done_?

 _Bailey_

My heart was pounding, both from my kiss with Steve and the almost overwhelming guilt that I felt because of it. My mind was spinning at light speed, and I knew that I was going to have some tough decisions to make moving forward. I just didn't know what to do _right now_.

"Bailey…" Steve was the first to break the silence, though he seemed rather uncertain about what to say. "I… We should…"

"I need to think," I blurted.

His eyes widened in surprise at my outburst, but he eagerly nodded his agreement. "Yeah, definitely. We should… think. Um… do you want to head back to the truck?"

"That's probably wise." Much wiser than staying in that place that had injected peace and otherworldly-ness into my very veins, making me go crazy. "Let's go."

He led the way, and I was much more careful with where I was placing my feet this time. If I had only been watching where I was going and hadn't tripped over that rock, maybe Steve wouldn't have had to catch me and we never would have been close enough for that overwhelming desire to hit.

 _That's not true_ , another part of my brain forcefully argued. _You and Steve have had incredible chemistry from day one. Time and distance did nothing to change that. Honestly, it was probably bound to happen from the beginning._

But I refused to accept that. I was a grown woman, and I should have been able to control myself. Why _hadn't_ I been able to control myself? It had been like someone else was pulling my strings. Like I had no longer controlled my own body.

 _The heat_ , I tried to explain it away. _You just hiked about a mile in the heat, and then you ran into that beautiful waterfall and emotions were running high. You're stressed about Jacob being gone and you're finally getting a little bit of time away from the kids…_

It wasn't a good excuse, and I knew it. I had kissed Steve because I had _wanted_ to. We _did_ have incredible chemistry, and I hadn't fought against it hard enough. Not only that, but I had been letting him come over to spend time with me and the kids. If I had really wanted to prevent any problems, I should have limited my time with him.

 _Maybe I really_ did _want this to happen_.

I firmly shoved that thought aside. _No, I didn't. I love my husband, and I never wanted to do this to him_.

That old, annoying voice in my head answered back. _Of course you love Jacob. But not the same way that you love Steve. Not even close_.

The ride back to my house was silent save for the songs playing on the radio. Steve kept his eyes firmly on the road, and I scrolled through social media on my phone, latching onto anything to distract myself from my own thoughts.

We reached my house and I waved Steve away as he began to unbuckle. "I can walk myself in, Steve, thanks."

His eyes were incredibly sad, and I knew that mine were, as well. "Bailey, maybe we should talk about-"

I cut him off. "I just need some time to think right now, okay?"

His voice was barely a murmur. "I gave you time and space before. Remember?"

The pain of our separation and divorce collided with thoughts of the present and it was almost too much.

"This is different," I retorted, and exited the vehicle before he could say anything else.

I was already crying when I reached the front door.


	19. Home, Sweet Chaos

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am so sorry about the delay in updating. I just recently moved houses, and each of my stories is on a separate USB (because I'm very Type A), and the USB with this story on it randomly got packed in with some stuff meant for the attic. It took me FOREVER to find it. In fact, I was losing all hope. Thankfully, it was found and now I can continue this story. Thank you all for continuing to review and message me to encourage me to keep going. I really appreciate you all so much!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, just in case you haven't heard: Hawaii Five-O has been renewed for another season. I'm on the fence about that, but they didn't ask for my opinion, for some reason. What did you all think of the season finale?**

 **One more thing before we get into the story (I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I think you'll like this piece of news). I have decided to write a story about what happens after the events of the season finale. I've already started writing it, and I plan to have it all done before the next season is released. The first chapter is going out later today, so please check that out! The title is: The Great In-Between.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Nineteen: Home, Sweet Chaos**

 _Bailey_

At a knock on the door of my office, I shook my head to clear it from the intrusive memories and called out, "Come in," hoping that I sounded more normal to whoever it was than I did to my own ears.

Dr. Nelson opened the door and flashed me a smile. "I just came to thank you for covering that patient for me this morning. I'm surprised that you're still here. You had an early start."

"I also had to send someone to the hospital's psych ward today," I answered.

He groaned in sympathy. "That always involves far too much paperwork."

"Care to take any of it for me to return my favor from this morning?" I asked him hopefully.

Laughing, he started to step out. "That's my cue to leave. Have a good night."

"You, too."

Once the door was closed behind him, I sighed and went back to completing the forms that the hospital had sent over for me. Most of it was just checking boxes, which unfortunately left my brain free to replay mine and Steve's kiss over and over and OVER.

I was grateful when the phone on my desk began to ring. A distraction was just what I needed.

"Dr. Addison."

"Dr. Addison," the deep, official-sounding male voice said. "I was hoping that I would catch you at your office. My name is Sergeant Jeffrey Daniels. Is now a good time to talk?"

 _Jacob._ Instantly, my entire body filled with dread. "Yes."

"Okay. Your husband, Jacob, and his team were unexpectedly surrounded by enemy fire. The official details are not yet available for release, but it was a high-fatality situation. Your husband was the only one of ours that survived the hit."

I felt my heart stop. Jacob was alive, but the rest of his team was dead. The team that he had trained with and bonded with and had loved working with. Dead. And I knew how detrimental survivor's guilt could be for the one that made it when everyone else hadn't.

"Where is he?" My voice was shaky as I tried to think of how I could get to him to make sure that he was really okay.

"He was in one of our hospitals overseas. Due to the nature of the mission, I can't tell you which one."

I felt my frustration kick in as he talked. Stupid top-secret protocols.

"He'll be flying home tomorrow. He's making a stop at Walter Reed right now so that he can be cleared there, and then someone will drive him home when he arrives late tomorrow."

My head was spinning. "Can I talk to him?"

There was an odd pause, and then he said, "Your husband has said that he doesn't want to speak to anyone right now. The doctors have said that's normal; he's just experiencing a bit of detachment right now."

Though I understood that and agreed that it was normal, it was still like a punch in the gut to me. "Right."

"I'll have someone alert you tomorrow evening when he lands and, as I said, they will escort him to your home. I'll also ask his doctor from Walter Reed to call you and give you an update on his condition so that you'll know what to be expecting."

"Okay. Thank you."

There was a distinctive tone on the other end and I felt chilled as I placed the phone back in the cradle. My mind was racing faster than it ever had before, trying to process that not only had my husband been injured in combat, but the rest of his team had given their lives.

 _Don't go to the darkest place,_ I warned myself. _First, look at the positives._

There were very few of them, but some could still be found.

Jacob was alive, first and foremost. Somehow, he had survived a brutal attack that had taken out the rest of his team. It was reminiscent of the Marcus Luttrell story.

Secondly, Jacob was obviously well enough to travel home soon. None of his injuries were too serious, which meant that he would likely make a full recovery. Physically, at least. Emotionally… well, we'd just have to wait and see.

And he was coming home. The kids would be so excited to see him, and no doubt it would be better for his mental and emotional recovery to be back in his home. I would have to warn the kids to be extra sensitive, but I was certain that it would be wonderful all around.

As quickly as I could, I finished up the form that I was completing and gathered my things. Suddenly, there was a list of about a thousand things to do, and only about twenty-four hours left to do it. Above all, I needed to make it as smooth a transition for Jacob as possible.

Steve's name popped up on my phone as I was driving home, but I quickly slid the button to ignore the call. I didn't have the time or energy to have a conversation with him about what had happened. Nor would I be able to deal with it until I knew that Jacob was okay. That had to be my main focus right now.

The kids were thrilled when I told them that their father was coming home, and they eagerly began to help me clean. As we picked up, I tried to gently broach the subject of his injuries, and that he might not quite be himself when he got home. It was a hard concept for young children to grasp, though, so I just tried to do the best that I possibly could.

Just before I was preparing to go to bed myself, my phone rang and I recognized the number from my time at that hospital.

Walter Reed.

"This is Dr. Addison," I answered, just to save that small amount of time.

"Hey, Bailey. Long time, no talk."

I recognized the voice immediately as Vincent Turner. He'd worked as a hospitalist while I'd been completing my fellowship. Somehow, it was harder to be talking to someone that I knew.

"Hey, Vincent. Are you the doctor on Jacob's case?"

"Yes. He gave me full permission to call and talk to you about his injuries. Said it would probably make more sense coming from me, anyway."

That was probably true, but I still wanted to hear his voice. "Is he still not wanting to talk to anyone?"

There was the briefest hesitation before his answer. "We had a psychiatrist come in; no one you know. He said it's too early to diagnose anything."

"Yeah," I agreed, "trauma is… complicated."

"Nevertheless, he seems to think that his behavior is normal, which is a positive sign. He had a concussion immediately following the attack, but scans then and now show no bleeding in his brain and all of his neurological tests have been fine. He had some internal bleeding that has cleared up, and he was grazed by a few bullets on his arm, stomach, and neck. Those are all healing nicely. We _did_ have to remove two bullets from his shoulder, but they missed anything major and lodged themselves into muscle. He'll be in a sling for a bit and will likely need physical therapy, but he'll be alright aside from that."

"Were the records sent to his doctor here?" I asked. "Does he still get to come home tomorrow?"

"Yes, we are sending him on his way as long as he clears all of the tests tomorrow. As for the records, we won't send those until he's discharged, but we _will_ be sending them to his doctor over there. He'll need to have a check-up once a week for the first month."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"I don't believe so. If anything changes, I'll call again tomorrow and let you know."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Have a good evening."

"You, too."

The call ended and I sank down onto my bed, still in shock at the evening's events. Of course, I had always known that it was a possibility that Jacob would be wounded – or even _killed_ – in combat. It happened every single day for members of the armed forces. It was a very harsh reality. But after so many years of nothing bad happening to him… I had grown far too secure.

"It's the whole reason that I wanted him to get out once the kids were born," I grumbled to myself, and then felt the anger begin to bubble in my veins. If he had kept his word and chosen not to renew his contract with the SEALs, then none of this would have happened.

 _Stop it_! I demanded myself. _That line of thinking isn't going to help anything. This is the reality now, and you're just going to have to face it._

Resolved, I made my way into the bathroom to take a long, relaxing shower.

I had to be ready for what was to come.

The following day passed in a blur of patients and notes and constantly checking my phone for any update on Jacob. There was a call around midday from a Navy travel coordinator to let me know the plan, but there was no health update. Fortunately, I knew that in this case no news was good news. He had passed all of his discharge tests and hadn't gotten any worse.

At home, I told the kids that Jacob wouldn't be back until long after they were in bed – close to midnight. They begged me to let them stay up so that they could see them, but I told them that it was absolutely out of the question on a school night and they could see him in the morning before they went to school. Sarah, of course, asked if they could skip school to stay with him, and I told her that it was up to her father. I certainly wouldn't object to that, as I had already asked for the day off to stay with him.

Once they went down for bed, I resumed cleaning and making sure that everything would be perfect for Jacob's arrival. I'd stocked up on painkillers and all of his favorite snacks. I'd rented movies that I knew he'd wanted to go and see. I'd made the environment as relaxing as I could.

It was just after midnight when the car rolled into the driveway. I watched from the window as a uniformed officer got out of the driver's side and moments later, Jacob exited the passenger's side. When he stepped closer to the outdoor lights, I gasped and took a step away from the window in shock.

To expect it is one thing. To see it is another thing entirely.

He was in a sling, and his skin was an array of colors from the cuts and bruises. Other than that – and a slight limp – he looked okay. But it was a reminder of just how close he had come.

The doorbell rang and I gathered my wits and went to answer it, pasting a pleasant expression onto my face as if nothing at all were amiss.

Jacob stepped inside and past me as soon as the door opened, and I spent only a minute speaking with the officer and thanking him for bringing Jacob all the way home.

Once he had gone back to his car, I closed and locked the door, and turned to find that Jacob had left the room.

Not a word to me.

The light was on in the kitchen, so I took a deep breath to calm myself and then headed in. He was leaning against the counter, eating ice cream straight out of the tub.

"Hi," I said cautiously when it became clear that he had no intention of starting a conversation with me.

"Hey."

He sounded different.

Deadpan, just like his expression.

I felt my throat constrict, but forced the words out anyway. "We're so glad you're back. Sarah and Ethan wanted to stay up to see you, but I told them it would be too late. I told them that they could stay home with you tomorrow, though, if you wanted. I already took the day off, so you'll have lots of help."

"I don't need help." His voice was curt. Abrupt. "They need to be in school and you need to be at work. You have patients."

"I asked off and covered most of my patients today. I worked really late so that I could take off."

His knuckles turned white around the spoon. "You shouldn't be inconveniencing yourself for me. I'll do just fine on my own."

It felt like I was talking to a stranger, but I forced myself to remain upbeat. "It's no inconvenience. It'll be kind of nice to have a day off. And then we'll have the weekend and we can just hang out here and relax."

"Fine."

The dismissal felt like a slap in the face. "Are you ready to go to bed?"

"I'm not tired."

That wasn't unusual. "I know that you probably still feel wired, but it would be good to at least lie down for a while. Maybe you'll end up falling asleep."

"Stop psychoanalyzing me," he demanded as he jabbed his spoon into a particularly frozen spot in the ice cream. I saw his frustration grow and grow as he continued to stab violently at it, until it went flying off of the counter. He threw his spoon after it with a loud shout. "Damn it!"

"Jacob, it's just a tub of ice cream. I can scoop some out for you, if you want-"

"Stop it!" he yelled and swept his arm out, knocking everything off of the counter. "I already told you that I don't need any help!" He spun and swept everything off of the other counter. Something shattered against the floor as I stood there in shock, unable to move. "Leave me alone!"

"Jacob, I know that you're angry. But you-"

"You don't know a damn thing!" He continued to curse at me as he threw things. Plates, cups… anything within reach. Just threw it haphazardly and didn't even pause long enough to watch it crash before he grabbed the next thing and threw.

"Mommy!"

Sarah's shriek brought me out of my shock and I spun to see her and Ethan cowering in the doorway, their expressions a mixture of horror and fear.

Fear of their father.

No, not their father.

The shell of him that had come back.

I quickly stepped forward and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them along with me as I headed up the stairs and away from the crashing and banging. Sarah was sobbing.

Once upstairs, I hustled them into the master bedroom and shut the door behind us. After a moment of thought, I also locked the door and scooted the side table in front of the door just a bit. Ethan and Sarah watched, confusion and sadness written all over their faces.

"Daddy is really upset right now," I tried to explain, even though that didn't even begin to explain his behavior. "Some of his friends won't get to come home and Daddy is more hurt than we thought. He's going to be okay, but… he's just really angry right now. We just need to leave him alone right now, okay?"

I ushered them into my bed and then laid down between then, hugging them close while they cried.

And once they were finally asleep, I locked myself in my bathroom and had a good cry myself.


	20. Helpless

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am so sorry about the delay in updating. I just recently moved houses, and each of my stories is on a separate USB (because I'm very Type A), and the USB with this story on it randomly got packed in with some stuff meant for the attic. It took me FOREVER to find it. In fact, I was losing all hope. Thankfully, it was found and now I can continue this story. Thank you all for continuing to review and message me to encourage me to keep going. I really appreciate you all so much!**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, just in case you haven't heard: Hawaii Five-O has been renewed for another season. I'm on the fence about that, but they didn't ask for my opinion, for some reason. What did you all think of the season finale?**

 **One more thing before we get into the story (I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I think you'll like this piece of news). I have decided to write a story about what happens after the events of the season finale. I've already started writing it, and I plan to have it all done before the next season is released. The title is: The Great In-Between.**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Twenty: Helpless**

 _Steve_

"Let me know if anything changes," I requested.

"Will do," Chin responded. "Any idea when you'll be in?"

"Just stopping to get some coffee. Should only be about fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Got it. See you then."

I hung up the phone and stepped up to the counter as the lady in front of me took her cup and stepped out of the way. The teenaged barista gave me a sultry grin, but I didn't have the time to care.

"Whatever is quickest with an extra shot of espresso," I requested and handed her a twenty.

She seemed only mildly put off by my brusque manner. "Name?"

"Steve."

After writing my name with unnecessary flair on a cup, she took my money and gave me my change. "Give me just a minute."

As she made my coffee, I quickly replied to an email. Once it was finished, she handed it to me and I wheeled around, ready to dart out of there and get to the office. I had a murderer to apprehend.

But as I made my way to the door, I saw her out of the corner of my eye.

Bailey.

I froze and took her in for a long moment, stunned. I'd been thinking about her almost nonstop – until a murder case had fallen into Five-O's lap – but she hadn't returned any of my calls or texts. I had started to think that maybe she never would. And then I just happen to run into her in a coffeeshop?

She hadn't noticed me yet, so I took the time to study her. She was dressed in black slacks and a pink blouse, the outfit tied together with pink heels. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she looked… tired. Was that a shadow from her phone, or did she have circles under her eyes? And were her eyes… red?

Concerned, I no longer cared if she was put off by my appearance. I stepped forward and reached out to touch her arm. "Bailey?"

Her head snapped up and her eyes widened when she saw me. "Steve."

Yes, definitely circles under her eyes. The kind that the best concealer in the world couldn't cover. And she had _definitely_ been crying recently.

 _Because of me…?_

I felt a pain in my chest at the thought. "Are you okay? I… haven't heard from you in a while." _Two weeks, to be exact._

But the pain in my chest didn't even begin to compare to the pain in her eyes. Tears welled up and she quickly dabbed them away with the back of her hand. "I'm fine. I have a rough patient load right now and everything's-"

"Bailey," I interrupted her, voice firm. "You've never been a good liar. Especially not to me. Now, what's going on?"

She wouldn't meet my eyes, which set off all kinds of warning bells in my head. "I just have a lot going on, Steve."

"That's not it." The line moved and I moved up with her. "Something else is going on. Bailey, talk to me. Please."

"I just… it's…" She groaned in frustration and then finally looked at me. "Jacob's home."

 _That_ hit me like a ton of bricks. Of course. Jacob was home, so she was feeling extra guilty about us… No, wait… That didn't add up. If Jacob was home, surely, she would be happy. Surely, she would be sleeping enough to not have giant circles under her eyes. "Why isn't that a good thing?"

She sighed and stepped forward in line once more. "It _is_ a good thing. He was… he was gone a long time. I'm glad he's safe."

" _But_?"

"But nothing," she grumbled. "Things are just complicated right now, okay?"

"Because of me?"

"Because…" There was so much pain in her eyes when she looked at me. "Because sometimes life is just complicated, Steve. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Yes, you do, but you're afraid to, for some reason."

"Stop that." Irritation flared in her eyes. "Stop trying to read my mind."

"You're only irritated because I'm onto something."

Ignoring me, she stepped forward and gave the barista her order and her debit card. I waited patiently off to the side as she got her receipt and her coffee – double espresso. Then, as she walked away, I fell into step beside her.

"Are you going to follow me to work?"

"No. But I'm going to make myself available until the very last possible second. Whatever is bothering you is obviously huge, and I want to be there for you. Please, Bailey, tell me what's going on."

She preceded me out of the coffeeshop and headed for her car. "I can't."

"You _won't_ ," I corrected and took a sip of my coffee. It was disgusting, but the extra espresso would give me all kinds of energy. "There's a difference. For God's sake, Bailey, let me help you."

Her ponytail whipped as she spun around and practically yelled at me, "You _can't_!"

Taken aback, I raised my hands up as if in surrender. "Okay, I'm sorry I was so pushy. Can you at least tell me _why_ I can't? Maybe I can do more than you expected."

"I don't want…" The tears were back in her eyes, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. "I don't want you to think that he's a terrible person."

The alarm bells turned to sirens. "What did he do?"

If he had hurt her in any way… well… I didn't think that I would be able to control myself.

She paused for a moment and then sighed and relented. "He was gone a long time, and then I got a call from the Navy. He's the only one of his team that made it through an ambush."

It felt like all of the air had been knocked out of my lungs as I remembered being in the same position. I'd lost Freddy and then the rest of my team in the ambush. I'd been the last once standing, just as Jacob had been. I knew that pain all too well, and I ached for him.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to get out, and then cleared the emotion from my throat. "How's he holding up?"

A tear fell from her eye, followed quickly by another one. She didn't even seem to notice as she continued to speak. "Not well. He got home and he's… physically, he only has a few minor injuries. But he… he's not himself. He got mad because I wanted to take the day off to stay with him and… he started throwing things."

The alarm bells seemed to be never-ending. "What things?"

"Stuff from the kitchen. Pots, pans, mugs… anything he could reach, really. The worst part is that the kids saw it. They were so freaked out." She choked on a sob and tried to clear it from her throat.

"Oh, Bailey…" Before I could help myself, I reached out and pulled her into my arms, settling my coffee cup on top of her car. She didn't resist in the slightest; rather, she wrapped her arms around me like she never wanted to let go.

"He wouldn't hurt any of us," she murmured against my shirt. "But he needs help, and I'm afraid that he won't get it."

"They'll do a routine PTSD check." They had with me. "Surely, they'll see it."

"Maybe." She pulled away and wiped some tears off of her face. "But I'm afraid that he's heard me talk about that very check so often that he'll know how to fool them."

Yeah… that was a possibility. "I hadn't considered that."

She shrugged her shoulders and took a shuddering breath. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what happens. For now, I just need to focus on making things as easy as possible for him. Avoid any triggers. Hopefully, he'll come around."

"Bailey…" I hesitated a moment, unsure of whether or not my story would actually help her. In the end, I decided that I needed to leave that up to her. "I was in the same situation as Jacob. Right before I joined the government task force, I was on an op that ended terribly. You remember Freddy?"

She nodded, brows furrowed. "I heard that he died on an op. Were you… you were on that same op?"

"Yes. An extraction. Freddy died and then, the rest of us were attacked. I was the only one that made it out alive on either side."

She gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth. "Oh, my God."

I held up my hands to stop her before she tried to apologize. "It was a while ago, and I've come to terms with it. The only reason that I'm bringing it up now is because as hard as losing some of my best friends in such a violent way was, I _never_ threw things around or scared the ones that I love. I feel for Jacob, I really do. But what happened to him is not an excuse."

"PTSD is very real, Steve," she argued, and I could see some of her stubbornness making an appearance. "Everything that he's done so far is within the realm of normal."

"I'm going to argue that it's borderline," I replied. "You can be angry without throwing stuff around. And if it is PTSD, then he knows that and he knows that he needs to get some help. If he doesn't, he's putting you and the kids at risk."

"He wouldn't hurt us." She sounded confident, but I knew her well enough to see the spark of doubt in her eyes.

And it made me uncomfortable.

"No one knows _what_ he's capable of if he snaps."

She shook her head. "He'd never let it get that far."

"Are you willing to risk your _life_ on that?"

"He's _hurting_ right now, Steve."

"Believe me, I understand that pain. Better than I wish I did. And I hate that for him, and I'm willing to help in any way that I possibly can. But you will _always_ be my first priority, and I'm not convinced that you're safe in a house with a trained operative that could snap at any moment."

Her chin rose defiantly. "I stand by what I said. He wouldn't hurt us. He has more control than that. He broke _things_ , Jake. Never once did he direct his anger at me or throw anything at me."

Before I could make any further argument, my phone began to ring. I silenced it and then reached for my coffee cup. "You could, at the very least, tell him that he needs to stay on base until he has his anger under control. There are therapists there that he could see, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

My phone rang again and I angrily pulled it out of my pocket.

Chin.

 _The murder case_.

I cursed and looked up at her. "I'm so sorry, Bailey. I… there's a murderer on the loose and I really need to go and make sure he's brought to justice."

She nodded. "Definitely. You should go."

But I still hesitated, hating that I would have to leave her to go through such a hard time by herself. "Can we at least call a truce? So that you can let me know how things are going with Jacob?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Truce it is."

We shook on it and then I pulled her into one more hug before I could second guess myself. "Call me if you need _anything_ , okay? Day or night."

"Thanks."

With one last, long look, I jogged off to my truck and threw myself inside, answering my phone as it began to ring again. "Chin, what's up?"

"Danny, actually," my partner answered, sounding rather annoyed with me. "Where the hell are you?"

"I was… held up." I took one more glance at Bailey and then I pulled out of the parking lot. "What's going on?"

Thankfully, he dropped the subject. "We're on our way to the guy's girlfriend's house. His ex-partner thinks that he's holed up there, and it sounds pretty reasonable. Want the address?"

"Yes."

Thirty minutes later, our guy was in custody. He had confessed to the murder as soon as he'd realized that he was surrounded. It had actually been one of our easiest takedowns ever, which was great for me because that meant that there wasn't a lot of paperwork.

Still, I found myself struggling to focus as I typed up the report. My mind kept returning to Bailey, and whether or not she was safe from Jacob. She certainly _thought_ that she was… but PTSD could be a scary thing.

"Knock, knock."

Danny suddenly appeared in front of me, plopping himself down into one of the chairs in front of my desk.

"No _actual_ knock?" I demanded, shutting the lid of my laptop. "Don't you have any manners?"

"I _did_ knock, actually," he informed me. "Three times. You were completely zoned out. Whatcha thinking about?"

I hesitated for a long moment, wondering if I should tell him. He might think that I was too invested, but he also had a lot of experience with domestic violence and could have some great insight. The latter ended up winning in the end.

"I need to tell you something, but I need you to keep it entirely between us."

He leaned forward. "I'm intrigued."

"Your word, Danny."

He nodded. "My word that this will stay between us. What's up?"

So, I briefly filled him in on my encounter with Bailey that morning in the coffeeshop. He listened intently, his expression unreadable. Once I had finished, he leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers over his stomach, and let out a long, slow breath.

"I take it you're telling me this because I have my own interesting experience with domestic violence."

"Look at you, Detective." I rolled my eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think that it very well _could_ be headed that way," he said carefully. "I mean, the PTSD is entirely plausible, given what happened to him. But he could go from smashing _things_ to _people_ in no time at all. If he's already acting wild and unpredictable… I wouldn't be entirely comfortable with the situation."

"I'm not," I agreed. "I suggested that she ask him to live on base for a while until he can get his anger under control. There are therapists there that could see him and help."

"That's a good suggestion. Just don't push her too hard. That might end up pushing her away, and she definitely needs to have you as an option if things go south. Keep the relationship strong."

I nodded. "Yeah. I told her to call me if she needed anything."

"And you think she'd take you up on it if she felt like she needed to?"

"Yes." I was confident.

He nodded. "Good. Let me know if you need my help with anything."

With that, he rose and began to make his way out of the office.

"No ribbing?" I asked, surprised. "I expected at least two quips."

He gave a little half-smile and shrugged. "Didn't seem like the time."

"You're more insightful than I give you credit for."

"And don't you forget it." With one last wave, he headed into his own office, leaving me to my thoughts.

I hoped more than anything that Jacob was just having a hard time and would snap out of it in a week or two.

But something deep inside told me that it was much more complicated than that.


	21. Let Me Help

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am so sorry about the huge delay in updating. Things have been insanely crazy for me lately in more ways than I can even list, and I decided to focus the majority of my FanFiction attention on my other story: The Great In-Between. If you haven't checked that one out yet, please do so. And thank you so much to all of you that have reviewed and messaged to check up on me and remind me to update. I do so apologize for the delay. Rest assured, this story will be completed. I won't just leave you hanging.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, just in case you haven't heard: Hawaii Five-O has been renewed for another season. I'm on the fence about that, but they didn't ask for my opinion, for some reason. What did you all think of the season finale?**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Twenty-One: Let Me Help**

 _Steve_

"I don't know how you do it," Chin said with a laugh as he looked at my sheet. "Your aim is ridiculous."

"You really want to know how I do it?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Practice. I know, I know. That's what Kono says every time I say that to her."

"Maybe you should practice less with your short barrel and more with your handgun."

"Maybe," he mused.

As I was about to rib him some more, my cell phone began to ring.

"No," Chin groaned. "Come on. We already solved our case for the day. I had plans to go home, put up my feet, and order a pizza."

"You should have notified the criminals of that. Maybe they would have taken the day off." I whipped my phone out of my pocket and answered without looking at the display. "McGarrett."

"Steve."

It was Bailey, and she sounded weary. Immediately, my figurative antennas went up.

"Bailey." I waved goodbye to Chin and headed for my truck, ready for anything. She wasn't screaming or crying, so it likely wasn't an emergency. Still… "What's up?"

"I need a favor."

"Anything." And I meant it.

"Do you think that you can take Sarah and Ethan out for a while? Maybe just to get ice cream or something like that? I'd like to talk to Jacob about going and getting some professional help, and I don't know how he'll react. He's been… very sensitive lately."

"You don't think he'd hurt you though, do you?"

"No. He's just been locked away in the guest room." She took a deep, shaky breath. "It's bad, Steve. Whatever happened over there, it's really messed with him."

I thought about all of the things that I'd been subjected to over my many operations with the SEALs, and I found myself feeling sorry for him. Being the only survivor of your squad… I knew exactly what that felt like, and it wasn't pleasant. Sometimes, I still had horrible dreams about it.

"I know."

"Of course, you do," she sighed. "I'm sorry if all of this is reminding you of your own tragedies."

"Don't worry about me. I've dealt with my tragedies." I started up my truck. "I'm at the gun range right now, so I can be at your house in about half an hour. Have you had dinner yet?"

"We just ate. I made Jacob's favorite dish and he still refused to come down. He hardly eats. That's why I decided to try to talk to him today."

"Okay. I'll take Ethan and Sarah to go and get some shaved ice, and you can just text me when it's safe to come back. Or before then, if you need help. I can call in one of my team members to help."

"I'll be fine." There was some of that familiar fire in her voice, and it gave me great comfort. "We'll see you whenever you get here."

I hung up and steeled myself. I needed to try to keep my emotions in check.

Though… I didn't know how I was going to do that with Bailey.

 _Bailey_

Thankfully, the kids didn't notice that anything was amiss when Steve showed up to take them to go and get some shaved ice. They were just so excited to see him again and to be going and getting a treat for no reason at all.

Once they were gone, I finished cleaning up the kitchen and then took a deep breath and walked down the hall to the guest room. The door was closed and locked, as it had been for the last several days.

 _He's not going to make this easy._

"Jacob?" I tried to keep my voice cheerful as I knocked on the door. "Can you open the door?"

No response.

 _Maybe he's sleeping_.

I doubted it, but knocked a little louder. "Jacob? Open the door, okay? I need to talk to you."

As I had expected, he didn't come to the door or even call out a response.

Swallowing my frustration, I took the key out of my pocket and fit it into the tiny hole on the handle. Ever since Sarah had accidentally locked herself in her bedroom when she was two, I had always kept the doorknob keys that came with the house. I just hadn't ever thought that I would need to use it to get to my husband.

Jacob was on the bed, nestled under the covers. At first, I thought that he was asleep, but when I walked around the side of the bed, I saw that his eyes were wide open and he was just staring at the abstract art on the wall. It was a piece that he had insisted that we buy because it "looks so cool", and I had caved, even though I normally wasn't a big fan of abstract art. Some of my patients reacted very negatively to it.

"Jacob."

He didn't even blink.

Gingerly, I sat down at the end of the bed, careful to avoid his feet. "Jacob, we need to talk. Can you please sit up and talk to me?"

He didn't even give me any indication that he had heard a single word that I said.

Frustrated, I put a hand on his leg. "Jacob, you need help. I think that it would be a good idea to have a conversation with one of the counselors on base."

Still, he said nothing to me.

Clearly, our conversation was going nowhere. So, I stood. "Okay. If you don't want to talk to me, I'll find a way to get in touch with your superior officer on base and see what he thinks."

"No."

 _Finally_.

He sat up and looked at me, but he didn't look like the Jacob I knew at all. He was a shell of the person he had once been.

"I'm fine," he said.

I just wanted to shake some sense into him. "No, Jacob, you're not. You've been locked up here in the guest room, not responding to your kids pleading with you to come out and see them. You hardly eat anything; you won't respond to questions… none of that is fine."

"What do you want from me?" he demanded.

"I want you to go and get some professional help," I pleaded. "Go talk to one of the counselors on base; I can probably pull a few strings and get you an appointment tomorrow. Or, I can _definitely_ pull a few strings with one of the other psychiatrists and get you in for treatment."

"Why can't _you_ just write me a prescription for an antidepressant or whatever?"

I shook my head. "It's not ethical to treat close family, Jacob. And you know that I can't be objective in this circumstance. You're my husband and the father of my children."

"You know that if I go in and tell them everything that's going on, they'll take me off of the SEALs. You can't be in elite special forces with a history of depression or PTSD or whatever I have."

"Would that really be such a terrible thing?" I asked gently.

His eyes snapped to mine and all that I saw there was anger. "So, _that's_ it."

Confused, I asked, " _What's_ it?"

"You _want_ me to go in to be examined so that they'll kick me out of the SEALs. That's what you've been wanting for _years_."

He wasn't wrong that I'd been wanting him to get out of the SEALs ever since I got pregnant with Ethan, but he was very wrong about my intentions. "I want you to get help because you _need_ help," I corrected him. "Let me help you. Please," I pleaded with him.

"You don't _want_ to help me. You want to help _yourself_. You want me out of combat and into a training position. But I wouldn't be happy there."

"You don't know that. Of course, it would take some getting used to, but you would adjust."

"I knew it," he growled and threw the covers off of himself. "You probably hatched this plan as soon as you heard what had happened. You figured that you could just pin PTSD on me and get me kicked off the teams."

"I'm not _pinning_ anything on you, Jacob. You're exhibiting plenty of the classic signs of PTSD, and I don't think that you need me to list them to know that it's true. When I heard what had happened, I was concerned for _you_. I felt _horrible_ that you ever had to go through that. I wanted to talk to you, but they said that you weren't talking to anyone. It was _never_ my intention to pin anything on you to get you kicked off teams. In fact, I wish that you were perfectly fine, but you're _not_ , Jacob."

I choked up and blinked back tears as I stood and turned so that he wouldn't see. He needed to deal with his own emotions, not mine.

"I can't be him, you know," he said quietly.

I swiped some tears away from my eyes and turned to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Steve. I can't be like him."

"No one is _asking_ you to be like him," I reminded him. "I'm sorry if you've been given that impression, but I'm happy with _you_ the way that _you_ are."

"Steve volunteered to leave the teams once you two had a baby. That's what you wanted me to do."

"That's also what _you_ wanted to do, as soon as we found out that I was pregnant with Ethan, remember? You said that the SEALs were too dangerous, and that you never wanted to leave your children without a father. You said that you would let your contract expire and take a training position so that you could still be there for your kids, but you didn't. You said that you would let it expire when I got pregnant with Sarah, but you didn't. And you still haven't."

"And you hate that." There was a fire in his eyes that almost scared me.

"Yes," I admitted, because I didn't want to lie to him, and he knew the truth anyway. "But I also know how much you love your job and how hard it would be for you to leave it. It's not something that makes me _hate_ you or want you to be like Steve."

"You shouldn't," he rebutted, "because Steve never followed through with it, either."

It was like a slap in the face, and my next words came out hoarse with emotion. "You _know_ why." Hell, he more than _knew_. He'd been there for me when it had felt like Steve hadn't.

"Right, right, right," he muttered angrily as he began to pick at a loose thread on the quilt. "It doesn't _count_. He would have, right? Steve McGarrett never goes back on a promise."

The conversation had taken a wrong turn somewhere, but my head was spinning too quickly to nail down exactly what it was. Nevertheless, it was going nowhere good, and I decided that I would just try again later.

Standing, I tried with all my might to keep my expression neutral, my tone gentle and even. "I don't think that this is a productive conversation. Why don't you get some rest, and we can talk about it later?"

He said nothing, so I made my way over to the door and reached out for the knob. But when I turned it, he suddenly shouted, startling me so badly that my grip slipped from the knob.

"It's not fair to compare me to him!"

I didn't turn around. I didn't want him to see the fear in my eyes.

 _I_ didn't even want to see the fear in my eyes. It felt wrong to be afraid of him.

"No one's comparing you to Steve, Jacob."

" _You_ are," he rebutted, but he was no longer yelling. "You keep trying to say that you're not, but I know that you are. How could you _not_? He was your first husband. He's all that you _have_ to compare me to."

An unwilling comparison wasn't the same thing, but I didn't voice that thought. He wasn't going to listen to reason right now.

"But you _shouldn't_ ," he continued. "We're not the same. He may have been a SEAL like I am, but he was never a father. Not a real one, anyway. The baby didn't live long enough for that. He might as well have never existed at all."

The grief from my son's death swallowed me whole before any logical thought could take root. I felt transported back to that moment – the moment that the doctor had told me that he was so sorry, but my son didn't have a heartbeat. My chest felt tight, just as it had all those years ago. Tears blurred my vision, making it hard to grip the doorknob to get out of there, but I finally accomplished it.

Somehow, through the ringing in my ears, I heard Jacob calling my name. But it wasn't enough to make me stop stumbling through the living room, headed for the stairs. I didn't even really know where I was headed; I just knew that I needed to get far away from _there_.

"Bailey, I'm so sorry." Jacob gripped my arm and turned me to look at him. "I'm so, _so_ sorry. I don't know why I said that. I don't know how I let myself get so angry. I'm _sorry_."

He looked so much like the Jacob I had married.

But _that_ Jacob would _never_ say those things to me.

Would never hurt me like that, even in anger.

I pulled away from him and made my way up the stairs even as the aching loss spread from my chest to other parts of my body, bringing a stinging numbness with it.

"Bailey, no, please talk to me."

Though I had wished that he wouldn't, Jacob had followed me up the stairs, pleading with me.

"Bailey, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm really, truly sorry. I never should have said something like that. It was a _horrible_ thing to say. Just talk to me, please."

Funny. That was the same plea that I had made to him less than ten minutes prior.

 _How the tides do turn_.

Once in the bedroom, I marched into the closet and pulled a suitcase down from one of the shelves. Jacob watched in confusion as I opened it on the bed.

"What are you _doing_?" he finally asked me as I headed back to the closet.

 _Shirts. Pack shirts first._

When I had about five, I headed back for the suitcase and gingerly set them inside, trying to focus so much on packing that my pain would be diminished somewhat.

"Bailey, stop." Jacob grabbed my arm again and then cupped my face in his hands, his expression one of… _fear_? "What are you doing?"

"I'm packing." I cleared the emotion away from my throat and tried again. "I'm packing. I can't live here like this. I can't watch our _kids_ live here like this. When you can go and get the help that you need-"

But he cut me off, backing away from me as anger flared once more in his eyes.

The Jacob I'd once known was gone again.

"Aren't you clever? Yet another ploy to get me to quit the SEALs." He stomped over to my suitcase. "It won't work!"

In one smooth motion, he swept the bag onto the floor and watched my shirts fall out.

"No, clearly nothing will," I responded and went into the bathroom.

There, I slid onto the floor and held back the tears as I found the contact in my phone.

"Ready for us to come back?"

Tears began to fall when I heard his voice. "Steve."

"Bailey." He was worried now.

I choked on a sob.

"Bailey, hey, tell me what's wrong." It was a demand and a plea all in one. "Let me help you."

And I did.


	22. A Difficult Separation

… **..**

 **Hello, everyone, and thank you for coming back to another chapter of my story! I am so sorry about the huge delay in updating. Things have been insanely crazy for me lately in more ways than I can even list. Hopefully, things should be back to normal now. And thank you so much to all of you that have reviewed and messaged to check up on me and remind me to update. I do so apologize for the delay. Rest assured, this story will be completed. I won't just leave you hanging.**

 **Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Hawaii Five-O characters, though I certainly wish that I did. All of the OCs are of my own creation. And, similarly to my last Hawaii Five-O story, I will not be following the timeline of the show, nor will I use every single plot that they've introduced. I really only use the characters and a few of the storylines. So, if you're reading something and you think, "no, that can't be right because Steve had already met Catherine" or "but that doesn't make sense because Danny said this in season two…" just know that it does make sense in my own little Hawaii Five-O universe.**

 **Also, just in case you haven't heard: Hawaii Five-O has ended. I was quite shocked when I heard that they were planning to end the show, and after a binge of the entire season, I don't feel that it was given the ending that it deserved. I understand that Alex was suffering from an injury and wanted to stop, but I felt that the ending could have been handled** _ **much**_ **better. Although… the writing has obviously been subpar these last few seasons, so I'm not sure why I expected anything different. What did you think about it? Give me all of your thoughts and opinions, either in review or PM!**

 **Lastly, if you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review! I absolutely love to read your thoughts and opinions. My previous readers also know that I'm more likely to update quickly if I'm getting a lot of reviews, because reviews equal motivation to me. Also consider favoriting and following the story and/or me. Thanks in advance!**

… **..**

 **Chapter Twenty-Two: A Difficult Separation**

 _Steve_

"Danny is really cool," I explained to the kids as we walked up to the front door. "I promise you're going to like him."

"Why can't we just stay with you?" Sarah was clinging to my hand, obviously uneasy at the sudden change of plans.

"I have to go help your mom with an emergency that just popped up. I'll be gone for maybe a couple of hours and then your mom and I will come back together to get you, okay?"

"What about my dad?" Ethan's voice squeaked ever so slightly, betraying his fear. I couldn't blame him. His father had come home from an operation acting not at all like himself, and now there was an emergency. What was he _supposed_ to think?

"I think your mom wants to talk to you about that herself. She'll be here soon, I promise."

Danny provided the perfect distraction when he opened the door and smiled at Ethan and Sarah. Just behind him was Grace, also smiling at the kids.

"Hey!" Danny greeted. "We were just about to have some ice cream and watch… I don't know, some kind of Disney movie or something." He looked helplessly at his daughter. "Play Story?"

Grace rolled her eyes. " _Toy Story_ , Danno."

"Right, that one."

Sarah and Ethan followed them inside, excited about the prospect of ice cream and a movie. Before they would let me leave, though, they made me promise that I would be back to get them very soon.

"By the time that the movie is over," I promised them. "With your mother."

That satisfied them enough that they followed Grace into the kitchen to retrieve their bowls of ice cream.

"Charlie and Grace can keep them entertained," Danny assured me and glanced over his shoulder to be sure that the kids were distracted before he lowered his voice. "Are you sure you don't need me to come with you to make sure that you can keep your cool? I can have Rachel come over and watch the kids."

I shook my head, though I would have liked him to come along with me. "Chin and Grover are meeting me there."

Danny nodded his approval. "Ah. Good call. As long as you're not going over there by yourself. You'd better head that way. Let me know if anything changes."

"I will. Thanks, Danny." I clapped his shoulder and then jogged back to my truck, the adrenaline coursing through my body at the anticipation of the unknown.

Anybody with PTSD could get pretty testy in a stressful situation… a trained special operator even more so. I had to be ready for anything. I also had to be sure to keep my emotions in check. If he saw a display of my emotions in regards to his wife, he might become defensive.

Chin and Grover were waiting in Grover's SUV and they met me in the driveway, expressions serious and grim.

"Just what are we going to be walking into?" Grover asked me before I had a chance to even thank them for coming.

I hadn't given either of them many details when I had called – just that Bailey had called saying that Jacob was having a difficult time with his PTSD and was refusing to get help. "Bailey said that Jacob wouldn't let her pack a bag to leave."

Chin's grim expression grew even more solemn. "Are you hoping that our presence here will inspire him to back off enough to allow her to pack a bag and leave?"

My plan exactly. I nodded. "Jacob is a Navy SEAL. He's been trained to respect authority. I'm hoping that training will kick in and he'll let her leave without a fuss."

"If he doesn't, are you gonna be able to keep your head?" Grover nailed me with a look that I was certain had discouraged his children from lying many a time.

"I'll keep my head."

After a moment of consideration, he nodded and headed for the front door. "Let's do this, then. How do you want to handle it?"

"Why don't you take the lead?" I offered. Grover had a gift for being both friendly and intimidating at the same time. It was a combination that not many people could realistically pull off.

With Chin by his side and me standing a short distance behind, Grover rang the doorbell and put his hands in his pockets to wait. When a minute had ticked by, he rang the bell again, shoulders relaxed. He would have looked like a friendly door-to-door salesman had it not been for Chin and I standing with him, both of us doing our best to look relaxed but not quite succeeding.

Finally, Jacob opened the door.

Though I had tried to steel myself for what I might see, I knew that my face betrayed me for a split second before I pulled myself back together.

Bailey had given me a rundown of his injuries, but it was different seeing him in person. One arm was in a sling and so much of his exposed skin was covered in cuts and bruises in various stages of healing. He looked like he hadn't showered or slept in days. I was certain that I had looked just as bad at certain points in my career.

"How ya doin' today, Mr. Addison?" Grover asked with such a lighthearted tone that I almost expected him to ask if he could borrow a cup of sugar.

Jacob's sharp, trained gaze moved over the three of us and sharpened on me. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Grover took over again before I could answer, which was a very good thing because I hadn't come up with a very good response. "Mr. Addison, is your wife here?"

Jacob reluctantly shifted his gaze to Lou and subconsciously took a defensive stance in the doorway. "Why?"

Without missing a beat, Lou shifted to a harder stance and tone, as his friendly bit wasn't working at all. "Mr. Addison, we received a call from your wife. Seems she wants to pack a bag and leave but is having some difficulty doing so."

Perfect. Non-accusatory, yet factual and pointed. I'd chosen the right man for the job.

Jacob's gaze shifted back to me, and there was a fire in his green eyes. "She called you because we had an argument?"

I felt something inside snap, but I somehow managed to keep my tone calm and even when I responded. "No. She called me because when she tried to pack a bag and leave, you yelled at her and threw the bag onto the floor. She wants to leave, Jacob. You can't keep her here."

"And _she_ can't take my kids." Now, his gaze moved to the only person he'd yet to communicate with – Chin. "Right? She can't take the kids out of their home."

It was actually quite a difficult situation, but Jacob definitely didn't have a friend in Chin, who responded, "She can if she thinks that leaving them here would put them in harm's way."

Jacob's eyes widened in disbelief. "I would never hurt my _kids_!"

Though I believed him, I said, "You went through something terrible, Jacob. Your mind is going a million miles a minute and it's making you do things that _aren't you_. Take a breather and let her take one, too."

"This is ridiculous."

"If Dr. Addison doesn't want to leave, we'll gladly move on and let you two enjoy the rest of your evening," Lou told him. "But we'd like to hear it from her. Mind if we come in?"

He hadn't given him much choice, and it was obvious that Jacob knew it. Five-O didn't have to wait for warrants, so we had the right to enter if we wanted to. Especially since I had received a call with a plea for help. He had no choice but to step aside and shoot daggers at us with his eyes as we passed him and entered the house.

"I'll stay right down here with Mr. Addison," Grover said to me and Chin. "Where exactly _is_ Dr. Addison?"

Jacob spoke through his teeth, obviously beyond ticked off. "Master bedroom. Upstairs and all the way down the hall."

I waved for Chin to follow me and took the stairs one at a time, even though a part of me longed to bound up and shout for her. I needed to keep myself under control so as not to set Jacob off.

Bailey's shirts were still scattered on the floor, the open suitcase flung against the far wall. The sight of it made me want to throw it at Jacob's head and see how _he_ liked such a display of anger.

Chin distracted me by pointing at the closed bathroom door. "In there."

I nodded and went to lightly tap the door. "Bailey? It's Steve."

"Jacob?" she asked in a timid voice that broke my heart.

"He's downstairs with Grover. Chin is here with me. We're going to make sure you're able to pack some bags and leave."

Half a second later, the lock clicked and then the door opened.

My heart dropped.

Bailey's blue eyes were surrounded by red; she'd been crying pretty hard. Makeup was streaked down her face, and her blouse was rumpled.

"Hey," I said softly, longing to reach for her but knowing that wasn't what she needed right now. "The kids are fine at Danny's – they're having ice cream and watching a movie. How can we help you?"

"I just… Can one of you call a hotel and make a reservation for me? And then-"

"Don't be ridiculous. You're not staying in a hotel. You and the kids can stay with me." It wasn't a well-thought-out plan, but I didn't want to take it back.

"I don't want to invade your house, Steve." Though she shook her head, she seemed reluctant to refuse.

"If you really want to stay at a hotel, that's fine, but my house is a lot bigger than those tiny hotel rooms. And the breakfast is better."

Chin coughed, but I distinctly heard him say, "Debatable."

Bailey smiled at Chin's joke and then nodded. "Okay. But _I'll_ make breakfast."

"Deal." I gestured to the suitcase and the shirts on the floor "We'll pick these up for you."

"Okay. I'm going to freshen up real quick so that the kids don't get freaked out, and then I'll finish packing."

While we refolded the shirts and put them into the suitcase, Chin whispered, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"You sound like Danny."

"You're avoiding," he pointed out. "It's pretty clear that you're still in love with her, and I obviously have no idea why the two of you split up, but… I don't want you to set yourself up for more heartbreak."

"The Navy did that for me when they assigned her to the hospital here on the island."

"Or maybe fate did it when we got that case. Either way, you're not doing much to distance yourself."

"I'll be fine," I said, and I was actually surprised at how certain I sounded.

He shrugged. "If you say so."

Bailey came out with a clean and slightly less red and puffy face, and she did her best to smile. "It shouldn't take me too long to throw our bags together."

And it didn't.

With her typical efficiency, Bailey packed one bag for herself, and one for each of her kids. She grabbed their backpacks for school, packed a few of their favorite toys, and then allowed us to load them into her vehicle.

Lou directed Jacob to the front yard so that Bailey could leave in peace, and I went to my truck so that I could lead her to Danny's house.

Once there, she faced me and held out her arms, trying for a smile. "How do I look?"

"How honest do you want me to be?"

Her expression saddened. "It's going to be so hard for them. I hate this." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I should be able to fix it."

Without a moment's hesitation, I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly. "You _of all_ people should know that PTSD isn't something that you can just _fix_. He's hurt right now, and he needs some time. You're doing the right thing."

"Why can't the right thing ever be easy?"

I pulled back and gave her a sad smile. "I wish I knew."

The kids had just finished up the movie and they were happy to see Bailey. While they chatted and Bailey met Grace and Charlie, I pulled Danny aside to give him a quick recap of what had happened at Bailey's house.

"If you had any hopes of winning him over as a friend, I'd go ahead and forget it."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Can you be serious, please?"

"I am being serious," he defended. "And I'm serious when I ask you if you're out of your mind. You really think it's a good idea to have your ex-wife and her kids stay at your house while her husband is having some kind of mental breakdown?"

"Well, I wasn't going to let them stay in a _hotel_ , Danny. My house has more room, the kids can run around in the yard, and they won't have to sleep in one cramped room."

"Hotels have pools."

"If she says she wants to go stay in a hotel, I won't stop her, okay? Satisfied?"

"Not really, because I don't believe you."

I rolled my eyes again and nodded when Bailey called out to me, asking if I was ready to go. "I'll see you at the office."

"Fine, fine." He held his hands up as if in surrender. "Call if you need me before then."

Bailey stopped on her way out to thank Danny for taking care of her kids, and Danny made a big show about how she had ever ended up with me if she actually knew what manners were.

After I'd helped Bailey load the kids into the car, she told me that she was planning to have a short conversation with them about Jacob on the way to my house.

"Any advice?" she asked me.

"I don't have kids; I don't envy your position."

"Gee, thanks," she said, but she smiled. "We'll just follow you. Are you sure you wouldn't rather us stay in a hotel? I hate to put you out."

Remembering my promise to Danny, I answered, "If you _want_ to go and stay in a hotel, then you should. But you're not inconveniencing me at all. I'm the only one that lives there, so I just have those two bedrooms sitting there collecting dust." I frowned. "Actually, I'm glad I thought about that. I need to do a quick clean when we get there."

She nodded. "Okay. Then thanks for having us. I'm not kicking you out of your room, though."

It's like she had read my mind. I'd known she would be resistant to kicking me out of my bed. "Don't even go there. I've already been looking forward to sleeping on the couch for a few nights. It's actually a _very_ comfortable couch."

"Then I'll be plenty comfortable when I sleep there."

I shook my head. "Nope. Sorry. We can argue about anything else, but that's final. I'm not going to let you sleep on the couch. If it would make you feel any better, you and Sarah can share my bed and I'll sleep in the other guest room."

She seemed almost impressed by my suggestion. "Look at you, compromising."

Fighting a smile, I headed for my truck. "That's me, Mr. Compromise."

And though we both knew that there were some long days ahead of us, we allowed ourselves to laugh.


End file.
